


Story and Sorcery

by sarkywoman



Category: Loki: Agent of Asgard, Marvel
Genre: Alcohol, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-03-30 00:28:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 25,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3916372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarkywoman/pseuds/sarkywoman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki shows up at the Avengers tower seeking sanctuary after an encounter with his older self.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have many things to be getting on with at the moment, but having just read Agent of Asgard (#1-11, if you're avoiding spoilers) I felt the need to try my hand at a new Loki story. Let me know if you would be interested in seeing a continuation and I will try and find more time for it.
> 
> I should also note that my Iron Man is more inspired by the cinematic 'verse than the comics.

“Sir, Loki is in the building.”

Jarvis has been making observations on Tony's upgrades for the past hour, so at first Tony just hums in faux-acknowledgement. Then he realises what was said. He peels his arm from the mechanised gauntlet he had been improving and pushes all his tools back across the table. He needs to get his suit together. “Who's present other than me and him?”

“No one, sir. Agents Romanoff and Barton are currently on S.H.I.E.L.D business. Doctor Banner is attending a conference in London. Thor's current location is unknown. Captain Rogers is on patrol. Would you like me to send out an alert?”

“Keep it vague, but yeah. Let Steve know there might be a situation.”

The last time Loki visited the tower he actually helped them. He showed up, acted like trouble, then provided unsolicited help. It was enough to make a guy wonder if maybe, just maybe, rehabilitation could work after fifty-something second chances.

Tony clips on his wristbands to summon the Iron Man suit. Loki is too unpredictable to take any chances. His rebirth doesn't change that, no matter how pretty he gets.

When he jogs up the steps and opens his workshop door, Loki almost falls through it. Tony has to steady him. Well, catch him. The bare skin of Loki's chest is cool against his hands. “Whoa, not traditionally how we greet round here.”

Loki doesn't even look exasperated. He just looks pained and exhausted. He staggers back onto his feet, clutching his middle with bruised arms. “I need...”

“Thor's not here.”

“Good,” Loki huffs out. “I need sanctuary.”

“You're fleeing something?” Tony leans out into the corridor, fully expecting to see a horde of angry supervillains or heroes stampeding into the tower.

“Yes. Please? I...” Loki looks down at the ground. “I've nowhere else. No one else.”

Rolling his eyes at the teenage angst, Tony feels the need to ask, “Whose fault is that?”

He doesn't expect the stricken look in Loki's green eyes. “I... I suppose it's my own, isn't it.” The young god pushes himself properly upright with one hand on the doorframe. “I understand. I'm sorry to have bothered you.”

So that's what kicking a puppy feels like. Tony sighs as Loki turns away. “What are you running from, kid?” The nickname just slips out, his brain not connecting this maybe-twenty-something man with the millennia-old god that liked to make their lives hell.

“Myself.” Loki looks back over his shoulder at him, waiting to see if he will get his sanctuary.

If he meant that in some pithy philosophical way he wouldn't be covered in bruises. One would hope. “I don't know if the other Avengers would agree.”

Loki closes his eyes and nods, resigned.

“But I've got a room down here in the workshop,” Tony continues. “You'd better come in. Tell me what's going on. And if I don't like what I hear...”

“I'll leave,” Loki says without prompting.

Tony holds the door open for him and watches Loki wince his way down the steps into the workshop. “Jarvis, tell Steve it's a false alarm.” He's fairly confident that if everything goes to hell, Jarvis can call Cap again. Steve might even get here before Loki kills him or turns him into a cat.

He follows Loki down and leads him through to the small room he has at the side to crash in. It's always served him well as a hiding place too. The Asgardian sinks down onto the end of the small bed and grips his knees, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths. There are bruises all around his torso, like someone had tried to crush him with their arms wrapped around his middle. Now that he looks closer, Tony can see faint bruising around his mouth and cheeks too.

“So... yourself? Wanna elaborate?”

By the time he's dragged a stool over, Loki is looking up at him.

“Alright,” the god says quietly.

And Loki tells him a complex, entertaining and horrifying story.


	2. Chapter 2

There is something liberating in telling true stories. Usually Loki's tales are 'inspired by' or 'based upon' the truth at best. Sometimes they are selective. He tells himself he edits for entertainment's sake, that the entirety of a truth leaves no room for imagination, but that probably is not the truth. He lies to himself far too often. Every breath is a lie.

But here, in a filthy little bedroom on Midgard, he sits across from their greatest mind and tells him things without dissembling. The truth wave that had forced his silver tongue to honesty no longer compels him, yet he is honest. It had felt like a trap before, when he was forced to confess his crimes to Thor. Now it feels freeing. This is something his older self would never do.

He begins in a familiar setting. The best stories do. He reminds Stark of their meeting in the Avengers Tower, when he had heroically used the sword of truth to rid Thor of a terrible curse.

“And purged our systems of all your information,” Tony Stark adds, leaning back in his armchair. “Not to mention getting Bruce shot by Clint.”

“It was only an arrow in the shoulder,” Loki says, waving a hand dismissively and wincing as he jars his injured wrist. “I bet the scratch had healed by the time I left.”

“Well sure, he felt a lot better once he'd gone big and green and started smashing skulls,” Tony says dryly. 

“I'm afraid it was worth it to save my brother from a most miserable fate,” Loki continues. He hesitates at the sudden memory of his brother turning his back. Shunning him. Could Loki have ever saved him enough times to prevent that?

His tale continues, though for a while he allows himself a tangent. Tony seems the sort to appreciate the harmless tricks he performed to retrieve the sword Gram in the first place. He tells him of the sneaky switch he pulled on Agent Coulson and his skill at cards (cheating at them, anyway) in a casino on Planet Sin.

“I think I've been to that one,” Tony says, smirking. “We should go together. Drain their coffers.”

The thought makes him smile, though that hurts his face. The gag his older self had placed upon him had been tight and unforgiving. “I would like that.” What a life that would be, to be the sort of fellow who could hop across the universe to casinos with Midgard's hero Iron Man. Making mischief without being despised for it.

“So how does all this tie in with you turning up black and blue? I'm not seeing the connection.”

“I'll get to that.”

Tony waves a hand regally, leaning forward so his elbows rest on the knees of his blue jeans. “Hurry it up, kid. I need to know whether I can let you stay in good conscience.”

“Stories require crafting, Stark.”

A sigh of exasperation from the older man makes Loki regret his haughty rebuttal. It is a complicated feeling, this regret. He wants to tell the whole truth, but he wants it to be accepted. He wants it to be understood. And, at the core of it all... there is a reason he came to this particular man.

But the story does not need that. 

He tells Tony of Lorelei and Sigurd, of Verity and a heist to retrieve from the All-Mother something he had given them in the first place.

“So, there are _three_ All-Mothers?”

“No. There are three aspects of the one.” Loki huffs. “Honestly, you divert me on the most insignificant details then complain of my dawdling. While Odin is away, the All-Mother rules. Gaea, Freyja and Idunn.”

“And which one's your mom?”

His bruised chest tightens at the memory of Freyja's arrow. _“You are a fetch – a doppelganger – an imitation of a dead god!”_ Banishment and exile for as long as he lived. And for what? For telling the truth. No wonder his older self never bothered. 

“None of them are my mother. I suppose none are even Queen to me now, banished as I am.”

Tony raises an eyebrow. “Wow, you must have been naughty. Some things really don't change, huh?” There is amusement there, not sympathy. Does he not realise the harshness of the punishment? Do they even practise banishment on Midgard? Deportation, perhaps. It is not the same. 

“I don't know. I had hoped they would. Change, I mean. I thought I had. But everyone tells me otherwise. And if mine is the only voice claiming change, I am not inclined to believe it. Everyone tells me I am a liar.” And this, he knows to be true.

“Okay. So what _happened_?” Tony is a man of science, not magic. Science is made of experiment and factual observation. Magic is made of story. Loki does not wish to bore him, so he must be more direct, for all that it cheapens his narrative.

“My older self was the poison in Thor. The All-Mother released it and kept it for counsel.”

“Sensible,” Tony says. Upon seeing Loki's stare he adds, “sarcasm.”

“Quite. Well, according to my older self, I must always play the villain. He and the All-Mother have been manoeuvring events to arrange this outcome. I have been fighting upstream as much as I can, but my reputation precedes me. My story of redemption against the story of Loki that everyone knows so well. I never stood a chance really.” Saying it aloud he realises how true that is. No wonder Gram is a blade. Well, was until Thor snapped it. The truth stabs.

His host sighs. “I'm still waiting to hear what you did. You've given them some ammunition for them to call you the big bad. I need to hear it before I know if I can help. You've told me all sorts of fun little tales and you've looked really sad throughout. You've done all you can to cushion the blow, so tell me what you did.”

“There are many things,” Loki admits, in the interest of full-disclosure. “Most were done with noble intentions. Betrayals for a greater good that nobody could ever believe. Other sins were committed before my rebirth. While I repent for them, I cannot take responsibility for them.”

“And in this life?” Tony asks. He looks stern. The longer Loki avoids the confession, the more terrible it must seem. “What are you banished for? What did you do that has you running? What aren't you telling me? If you want me to believe you're a new Loki--”

“I am not.” His head hurts. He would have liked to have stayed here a little longer to recuperate before... wherever he can go next. Is there anywhere? “I am not new. That is the crux of the matter. When I was reborn I was a clean slate. But there were echoes of the creature I was. One of those echoes demanded the life I was building for myself. It manipulated and lied as well as old Loki ever did and eventually the innocent boy found himself trapped in a web of his own making. If he continued to live as free and innocent as he was, his noble intentions would be disregarded and his mistakes and betrayals used as justification for hatred. Not to mention the world would crumble under the evil machinations of Mephisto the devil.”

Tony's eyes are wide now. “Asgard does coming of age stories very differently from Earth. What was your second option?”

“ _His_ second option was to accept the dark echo of madness and villainy into himself, to let it overwrite his fresh existence with the stinking lie of the past. Only then would his accidental schemes dissolve into nothing. So he did. The crown he had made from nightmares vanished from Mephisto's brow. But he, that innocent Loki, was no longer.”

Already he can see that Tony does not comprehend his tale. The man has a frown that makes him look rather stupid, though it does not detract from how handsome he is. In the midst of his despair and existential conundrum, Loki finds a moment to hope Thor never told his fellow Avenger about Loki's Iron Man background on his starkphone. 

“This is all allegorical, right?”

“Gods are. We are all stories.”

Tony huffs and leans back in his chair. “Well that's all very profound, sweetheart, but I'm not sure that kid actually died. You know, _died_ -died.”

“You don't have to be sure,” Loki says quietly. He feels incredibly weary now that his tale is told. “You are a man of science. The evidence is in the disappearance of the crown. If kid Loki lived on in any way, the crown would have continued to be.”

“Are you sure?” Tony asks, insufferable in his cynicism. But his refusal to believe the truth may have benefits. He has yet to turn his back or throw a punch. 

Loki sighs. “I am not sure I understand what you are asking. So I will ask you a question instead. Might I stay here? Not long. Just... I need time to decide what to do. If there is anything I _can_ do.”

The man stands and looks him over. He seems deep in thought and Loki wonders what it is he is looking for. Whether he sees it or not, he eventually nods. “Yeah, okay. Behave yourself and we'll be fine.”

Relief floods through him and Loki has to look away for fear of embarrassing himself. “Thank you,” he whispers.

“I assume this is a secret,” Tony adds.

“Yes. There are many who despise me. Everyone, in fact.”

Tony sighs and squeezes his shoulder. It is one of few places that does not hurt. “For what it's worth, old-you would have said that with a smile.”


	3. Chapter 3

Luckily the Avengers are used to Tony disappearing into his workshop for days at a time. Loki has been hiding down there almost a week now. His bruises are mostly gone, though the most persistent one on his chest turned out to be a busted rib. Apparently his older self had bound him so tightly to a chair that the pressure had started to cave his chest in. 

Tony grimaces just thinking about it. He wonders what would have happened if Loki hadn't managed to magic himself away. He wonders what story his older self would have told. He knows the curiosity must be killing the younger Loki, for all that he acts as though he couldn't care less. Whenever Tony asks about it, Loki just shrugs and reminds him that his older self would undoubtedly have fed him more lies.

Gods have such _weird_ problems. 

“Hey man, you okay?”

Clint has hesitated by the table on his way out of the dining room-slash-kitchen. He has a bag of candy in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. He has clearly just returned from a mission, all suited up with bow and arrow on his back, but something about the candy negates the threatening demeanour. 

“I'm fine.”

“You sure? You've been in one your uh...” He waves the coffee around, barely managing to keep it in the cup. “You know, your zoned out moods. We haven't seen much of you then when you _are_ around you're thinking about something. Really thinking. Looks deep.”

“Weird project,” Tony says. It isn't a total lie. The only question is if Loki can be considered a project. Oh god, 'not a total lie'? He's already behaving like the trickster. “Something out of my usual expertise.”

“Anything I can help with?” Clint asks. Bless his little quiver, but he's trying.

“Nah.”

The dismissal shuts the conversation down as intended, Clint's mouth forming a thin line as he takes the refusal as a slight to his intelligence. “Okay, cool. Have fun.” He reaches the door before calling over his shoulder, “But if you're not down there, think you could tell Jarvis to stop playing Taylor Swift on repeat? Uh... At least I think it's Taylor Swift. I wouldn't know. I googled it. The lyrics, I mean.” Then he rushes away.

Tony doesn't own any Taylor Swift. “Jarvis...” Then he stops. He doesn't know who else is around to hear him. 

“Yes sir?”

He picks up his tablet and makes his way out of the dining area, tapping in a quick question - **Loki's condition?** \- using Discretion Mode to avoid anyone finding a record of it later. Maybe he's getting paranoid in his old age. 

The kid's been fairly quiet during his stay. He's told Tony lots of exciting stories about adventures and disasters and noble sacrifices. In fact, Tony kind of prefers his stories to Thor's. A little cunning makes for a better tale than a simple statement of how many bilgesnipes died at Thor's hammer. But for all Loki's storytelling, he's been keeping stuff back. The stuff that doesn't need to go in a story, like feelings. That's probably Tony's fault. He has been pretty blunt with what he wants and needs to hear. Facts. Things. Events. But the more Loki says, the more Tony feels the younger man has been through the wringer in every possible way. Stuff like that doesn't just fade away. It festers. It boils. Eventually, it bursts.

Jarvis' response does not fill him with reassurance. **He is listening to music, sir. He is also heavily intoxicated.**

By this point Tony is pushing the workshop door behind him so he asks aloud, “Intoxicated how?” He can already hear the music.

“If you recall, sir, you have a tendency to leave free bottles of champagne around the workshop when you return from charity galas or the like.”

He does. He's normally so eager to get back to his real life that he drops his tux in the doorway and puts aside anything he's holding. That includes numerous bottles of free alcohol. When he has a thirst the spirits go first. Champagne normally lingers. Well, until a young god feels like getting emo about the place.

One of the monitors is on, displaying the usual stream of headlines and muted news stories. Loki sits on the floor with his eyes closed, back to the sofa, neck of a half-full champagne bottle resting lazily between black-nailed fingers. He's singing. Tony pinches the bridge of his nose. How is this even his life?

_“You're still all over me like a wine-stained dress I can't wear anymore. Hung my head as I lost the war and the sky turned black like a perfect storm...”_

“You'd look good in a dress,” Tony says, interrupting because it sounded like he was building up to belt out a chorus. “Jarvis, turn that off please.”

“I always did,” Loki says, opening his eyes and grinning up at him. There are five more empty champagne bottles of differing labels lined up along the floor beside him. All neat except the last one, which has fallen over and dribbled onto the metallic flooring. Much like Loki will, at this rate.

“Huh?”

Loki wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Tony managed to find him some plain trousers and t-shirts to wear during his stay, but today the god has not bothered to dress and sits there in a pair of black boxer-briefs and an oversized Stark Industries t-shirt that he has been sleeping in. The sight of it gives Tony a surge of emotion that he refuses to acknowledge. It is not a soft feeling. It is something hungry and distinctly un-heroic. It has absolutely no place here.

“A dress. I believe my old self went through a bit of a phase. It wasn't my body I suppose. Still, I looked good. I probably still would.” Tony hopes he sounds that eloquent when he's drunk. Aside from the glassy eyes, the clumsy swinging of the champagne bottle and the ever so slight slur, Loki could be perfectly sober. But Tony knows from seeing Thor inebriated that for a god to show even this much, Loki has to be off of his pretty face. Further confirmation comes when Loki giggles - _giggles_ and asks, “Would you like to see me in a dress? T'would be more your speed, I think.”

“You need to go to bed,” Tony says firmly, leaning down and snatching the champagne from Loki's hand. He takes a swig. It's not cold. He really needs to start refrigerating this stuff if he's going to bring it home.

With an unfairly graceful movement, Loki turns onto his hands and knees. He looks up at Tony and purrs, “Is that an invitation?”

Tony takes another swig of champagne. Imagines Thor smashing his Iron Man suit to pieces with Mjolnir. Once the bubbles are all gone from his throat, he squeaks, “You're drunk.”

“Yes.” Loki nods sagely, as though Tony has said something profound. “I hadn't tried it yet. I've been tipsy at best in this life. Seemed no time like the present. Y'know, before I get too evil to let my guard down.”

“You're not going to,” Tony says, thankfully not sounding as panicked as a moment ago. It was the bubbles, that's all.

Loki sighs with such heavy wistfulness that it's almost a swoon. He's still gazing up at Tony with those bewitching green eyes. “I wish...” He shakes his head and breaks the gaze with a sad little laugh. “Oh, so many things. Chiefly, I wish I could believe you.”

Tony sets the bottle down on the arm of the sofa. “Come on.” He leans down and helps Loki up to his feet. “Can you magic yourself sober?”

“I'm scared to use my magic,” Loki murmurs, staring at Tony's chest as if he is too embarrassed to meet his eyes. “He might find me.”

“Still...”

“And I don't want to. I like this drunkenness. I see why so many do it.”

“Well, try not to do it too often,” Tony says awkwardly. Some would call his advice hypocritical, but who better to preach on the perils of alcohol than a recovering addict?

“I wanted to try it,” Loki says. Tony's intention of helping him up has metamorphosed into some strange sort of standing cuddle. It isn't exactly unpleasant, which is why it needs to stop. Now. Any moment now. “I don't know how much longer I'll be here. Or how much longer I'll be me. I want to try things I won't appreciate properly later.” He _nuzzles_ Tony's neck. Tony swallows nervously. “You know, there are some other things this body hasn't tried yet.”

And that is absolutely it. Loki yelps as Tony manhandles him through to the little side room and half-shoves him onto the little bed. 

“You. Sleep. Now.”

He tries not to look back, but cannot help himself when he reaches the doorway. Loki is exactly where he dropped him, pouting and miserable on the blankets. 

“I'll bring you bacon and coffee in the morning,” Tony says with a sigh. “But you gotta sleep this off.”

“But...”

“We'll talk about it when you're sober and I think you'll thank me for it.” Hopefully.

“But...”

“No buts!”

“Only one breakfast meat?” Loki asks, eyes wide. “Have I offended you so?”

Gods have such _weird_ priorities.

“I'll see if I can put a sausage in for you too.”

That sends Loki into fits of laughter that follow Tony all the way out of the workshop.


	4. Chapter 4

Loki's older self never suffered such bone-deep mortification in all his lives. When Loki wakes, head sore and stomach rolling, he recalls being on his hands and knees before Stark and flirting most terribly. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, favouring the human vocabulary for this situation. He cannot quite recall what happened, but he knows he has not been bedded. This body is virginal. He would feel if it were not.

He tries very hard not to think of sexual encounters from his previous life. He had gone out of his way to be as taboo, depraved and shocking as possible back then, but even so there had been some enjoyable encounters. Doom would have taken him up on his offer, had Loki travelled to Latveria rather than Avengers tower. Perhaps. Loki is not what he was, after all.

Or is he?

Bor's beard, the question rolls around and around in his mind. It has done ever since the murder. The annihilation of his better self. His father even told him he has blood on his hands again. 

What if... what if Asgard has never been wrong? What if they have simply always known him better than he has known himself? Mayhap they have tried to tell him over and over that they _see_ what he is with their honest eyes and he has always doubted them because he lies so much that he _is_ a lie and oh no, is he really so mad? Has the madness from that former life infected him more than the innocence he stole and--

“Hey One Direction.”

Tony Stark's voice jolts him out of a spiralling terror. The man enters the room with a plate of delicious-smelling foodstuffs and sets it down on the battered little bedside table. He does not look angry or disgusted, but the sight of him shames Loki all the same. The grave considerations of moments ago fall away in favour of the immediate problem, which should be petty. It should not mean a thing. In another life, he would slide aside his blanket and sprawl invitingly. He should be able to use this pretty face.

“I... uh... um...” His silver tongue turns to lead. He shrinks down and tugs the covers up, his gaze settling on the blue light shining through Tony's vest. He is a _God_ , he sternly reminds himself. But he does not feel like one in this moment. He feels like a stupid teenager, like any Midgardian youth that Tony might encounter at a convention.

“Hey.” Tony sits down at the edge of the bed, near enough to look down at his mostly-hidden face. “Don't worry about it, okay?”

“It was disgraceful behaviour,” Loki says, finally forcing himself to meet the man's eyes. “And with you being such a gracious host... I apologise. I embarrassed us both.”

The man chuckles. “I wasn't embarrassed. A little flattered, maybe. Not every day a guy gets propositioned by a God. Guess beer goggles are a thing for Asgardians too?”

For a moment the reference is unclear. But a moment's logic applied to the phrase makes the meaning apparent. “You mean I found you more attractive due to my inebriation.” Tony nods and Loki shakes his head. “No, I...” He shuts his mouth, imagining his older self laughing at the little fanboy.

Stark raises his eyebrows, then a devilishly handsome smirk sidles into existence on his lips. “Well. Now I'm really flattered. No maybe about it.” The man nods towards the plate. “I brought your breakfast, if you're up for it. Bacon, eggs, sausage, toast.” He stands, so Loki will not be getting a kiss straight out of a torrid slash fanfiction. Pity.

“Thank you,” he says, for want of better conversation. “I'm sure you are not accustomed to bringing breakfasts to people in their beds.”

“I'm not,” Tony says, folding his arms. “But something tells me your presence would raise more questions than I can answer right now. And Thor still swings by when he feels like it. I get the feeling you don't want to see him.”

“I do not.” Loki wriggles a little to free his arm from the blanket cocoon then reaches for his breakfast, settling it down on his lap. “I have told you why.”

“He found out you did the freaky switch with the kiddie Loki and got annoyed. That's all you told me.”

Loki finds his grip tightening too firmly around his cutlery. “He did not merely get 'annoyed'. He called a crowd to assault me in the streets of Asgardia. He beat me to a bloody pulp then could not finish the deed so he abandoned me to those who he knew would seek my death.” _Thou art no kin of mine,_ Thor had uttered, breaking Loki's rotten heart.

Tony looks stunned for a moment. “You're still here though, so they were clearly merciful.”

“No. They decided I was already dead to them. That I was not worthy of the effort required to speed my demise.” The memory of it closes his throat and Loki finds himself pushing the wonderful food around on his plate.

“But...” Tony runs a hand through his hair as though it will aid the thought process. “But they don't _know_ what happened!”

The reaction bemuses. “Neither do you,” Loki points out. “You only know what I've told you. Which may be a lie.”

That wins him a scathing look. “What do you have to gain from lying to me?”

“Sanctuary? Sympathy?”

“Neither of which you'd need from me if you were still a big bad. It's been over a week and nothing's happened. Not a smidgen of mischief which, frankly, is scarier than if every chair in the meeting room spontaneously came to life or something. You're hiding. You're scared. And more importantly, you keep questioning your own story. The Loki I knew, that Loki from before, he kept his lies straight.”

“You have never known me,” Loki mutters, feeling an incomprehensible surge of anger at the assumption.

“I'd like to,” Tony says, sitting back down on the bed. “The guy who's been crashing in my workshop for the past week seems alright, if a bit melodramatic.”

“He's a child-killer,” Loki says, unwilling to believe what he is being offered. His memories of Stark from the life before clash violently with the lingering admiration of his younger self and the immature yearnings of this body. He wants. There are not many things that he wants. He cannot, should not, have any of them. “By his own admission.”

“I'm not sure I believe that,” Tony says with a shrug. “Sorry.”

“I tell you it happened. All of Asgard believe it,” Loki points out to this stubborn man.

But Tony chuckles. “Doesn't that strike you as a little strange?”

“In what sense?”

“Well, they've never believed you before. Why start now?”

“Because they hate me and willingly agree to any story that involves my wickedness.”

Tony reaches out and ruffles his hair. How condescending.

“You gotta understand, sweetheart. When a band changes their sound, they lose fans. Some people only want the same thing over and over. They cling to what they know and they reject progress. Violently, sometimes.”

“I am aware of this.” It is a recurring frustration of his existence.

“Right, so why am I seeing you give a damn?”

Loki sighs. “Because giving a damn is the only thing stopping me from becoming him.”

His answer makes Tony grin widely.

“So you're _not_ him then. There's your truth.”


	5. Chapter 5

Tony wants to fuck a Norse god half his age.

This is problematic at best. At worst, it's part of a malevolent scheme to destroy the Avengers from within and take over the world.

Even with his ego he's coming to suspect it's the former. Loki's behaviour doesn't suggest scheming. Loki is quiet, but not _too_ quiet. Sad but not over the top faking it kind of sad. A little flirty now and then, but in some endearingly awkward way that nobody would ever expect to work. (It's working.) He has been open and honest, but doesn't seem to care if Tony believes a word he says. In fact, he outright challenges Tony to doubt him on numerous occasions.

Stretching and leaning back on his stool, Tony takes a moment away from his designs to pursue a sudden line of thought. “Hey Loki?”

“Mmm?” The god is reading a book he has picked up from somewhere around the place, laying back across the sofa. Properly dressed, thankfully. Tony has been haunted in recent nights by thoughts of oversized Stark Industry t-shirts on lean, nubile gods with pale legs stretching from here to Asgard.

“That truth wave you mentioned, is there any way that could still be in effect?” 

Loki sits up and furrows his brow at him a moment. “You are an ugly, poor man of mediocre intellect.”

It's the lack of context that surprises him more than anything. “Sorry?”

The young god smirks. “Just testing for you. It seems I can lie.”

“Oh. Thanks.” So that was in fact just the weirdest compliment he had ever received.

“Why did you ask?”

“Just wondering.” Is there a polite way to say 'it's weird that you're not being a lying son-of-a-bitch'? No. There isn't. “It's just kind of weird that you're being so honest with me.”

“You think.”

He sighs and leans back against his workbench, giving Loki what he hopes is a suitably unimpressed look. “If you wanted me to believe you, you wouldn't be so insistent that you're lying.”

“It could be an elaborate double-bluff. Usually I go for at least a triple, but I'm trying to cut down.”

Tony smiles. “You're not lying. I guess I'm just wondering why. Why here, why the honesty.” _Why me?_

After a shrug and a few moments examining his black fingernails, Loki says, “It's a bit different, isn't it? A change? I'm struggling to change. But this feels easy. I have been forced to tell the truth a lot lately. It has gone singularly badly. Every time.” There is frustration in his voice now, which Tony has been waiting to hear. The circumstances that drove Loki to hide here are worth getting frustrated about. “When I thought to try and escape my fate one last time, I sought the most open-minded Midgardian I knew. If you had rejected my truth then I would know there was naught for it but to accept that I was made to lie.”

“The most open-minded?” He asks, not knowing how else to react. Loki came to him for his one last shot. It kind of blows Tony's mind to think that a god's redemption hinges on this, this fumbling dialogue with a human in a basement filled with machines. It's like some sort of...

...some sort of story. 

“The most open-minded human with somewhere to hide, some means to defend himself, wealth and luxuries and a high enough IQ that we could talk.” Ah, right. That does narrow down the search results somewhat.

“Not Doctor Doom though? You two used to run together. He must have had a pretty open mind.”

Loki _blushes_ and takes a sharp breath. Tony wonders again if this is all a con because who the hell could expect to see a flush of colour on that face?

“He did. He could be indulgent on occasion. He was certainly fun.”

There is no way that can mean what he thinks. Loki must be using the word fun to mean murder and mayhem. Villain fun. “You don't mean--”

“I am not what I was,” Loki says, interrupting him. “I suspect the only version of me that Victor would welcome is the mad creature that schemed with him, or a docile imitation of myself that would bow to his every need. I am not either. I am _trying_ to be good. So I came to you.” Loki finally meets his eyes and if he's lying now, Tony has never known truth in all his life. “Was that a mistake? Would you rather I leave?”

“Where would you go?”

“I'm sure I could find some place to... to stay in.”

Tony sighs and abandons his work, standing and strolling over to sit next to Loki on the leather sofa. “You don't even know what you're going to do, do you?”

The smile he gets in response is weak and fleeting. “In case you have not noticed, I am at a total loss. He is me, but stronger. Smarter. Crueller. Do you have any idea how demoralising it is to not even realise his schemes until I am at the end of one, facing my own tragedy?”

“Well you had to be on the receiving end some time, sweetheart.” He only notices the innuendo once the words are in the air and Loki is giving him a rather pointed look. At least that smirk is back. It's good to see him feel something, even if it's just amusement at Tony's expense.

Unfortunately the moment doesn't last. Loki looks away again, as if there's anything new for him to look at down here. Tony's kind of surprised he hasn't gone stir-crazy yet. It's been nearly a fortnight.

“As much as I might wish otherwise, I cannot hide forever. He plans for me to turn into him. He and the All-Mother have conspired most thoroughly to make me a villain.”

“But that isn't something you can do to someone,” Tony argues, trying to forget all the instances of mind control and switching spells. That isn't the sort of villainy they're talking about. “We're talking about a choice. You choose how to behave. You choose who to be. Nobody can make that choice for you. I get that you gods wrap yourselves up in magic and myth, but I can simplify it for you.”

Loki raises his eyebrows and brings his legs up, leaning back against the arm of the sofa with his hands on his knees. “Oh?” And that look of amused condescension has been peeled straight off of old Loki's face. “Do tell, great one.”

“Bad guys do bad. Good guys do good.”

There is a moment of silence, then Loki throws his head back and laughs. Eventually he wipes at his eyes, though it wasn't _that_ funny that he really wept with laughter. “Oh Stark, you have been spending too much time with my brother the great philosopher.”

He shrugs because hey, he knows what he's talking about here. “So where am I wrong? To spite your older self, to not be evil, you just have to be good. Save people. Defeat villains.” _Become an Avenger and let the media speculate on what it means when we start going for dinner together._

“It sounds very nice,” Loki says gently, as if the idea is not new to him. “But if I oppose him – myself – in this, he will simply annihilate me.”

“But then how could you become him?” Tony asks, aghast. He never realised this was one of the risk scenarios.

“I would not have to. He would simply step into my place and continue on as if nothing happened. He is having too much fun toying with me to take that route straight-away though. It makes a more entertaining story for me to be corrupted through my own power and the hatred of others.”

Tony reaches out and squeezes Loki's hand where it rests on his knee. “I don't hate you.”

“Yet.”

The quiet conviction is almost heart-breaking. Tony does not know how to argue with it, so he doesn't. “Those are your options then? Fight and be destroyed or submit and go back to the old days?”

“A trap in both directions,” Loki answers with a nod, staring into the distance. “I have been trying to think of something else but... well, I think I've almost lost heart. Each day I feel more as though this is simply a holiday. A short reprieve before I need to face my fate.” He smiles at Tony, looking utterly lost. “A lovely daydream of what might have been.”

“My workshop's not that great,” Tony mumbles, suddenly self-conscious. Lust he can handle. Loki's very pretty now. It makes sense. Social context isn't as relevant to the desire to screw someone silly, it just dictates whether you should actually go ahead with it or not. But Loki isn't talking about a quick fuck on the bed in the back. He's talking about something else altogether, maybe something that he's never had in this life or any that came before. That would explain a lot.

“You know what I refer to, Stark. Do not seek to disguise your intelligence.” Tony draws his hand back and Loki stands, picking up his book. 

“On Earth we just say 'don't play dumb'. It's punchier.”

Loki raises an eyebrow. “If I wanted 'punchier' conversation I would have gone to Thor.”

“No, you wouldn't.”

The god smiles. “No, I wouldn't. Still, if you are interested in making my naïve fantasy even more appealing, you know where to find me.” He walks to the little bedroom. Tony has no intention of following. 

“There's gotta be a third option,” Tony calls after him, stopping Loki in his tracks. “Something other than dying or submitting. Something we're missing.”

“This _is_ the other option. I only wish I could find a way to make it last.”

A click of the door and it's closed between them. Tony puts his face in his hands and blows out a deep breath from the bottom of his lungs. He wants to go open that door. He wants to be Loki's lovely, filthy daydream. 

Instead he goes back to his workbench, as though he can invent something to fix this. Now _that's_ a naïve fantasy.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blatant rip-off of Age of Ultron Natasha's Hulk method, mixed with my own hypnotic!Loki head-canon, mangled up with some story=magic Agent of Asgard Loki. 
> 
> I also should note that I'm not terribly up to date with Thor's identity crisis. In that all I know about him choosing to relinquish his role is what I've seen in Agent of Asgard #1-11. As a result, this story features him as mjolnir-wielding Avenger Thor. Presumably in this fic he went back to being Thor shortly after berating Loki for being a murderer.

The Avengers fought as well as any warriors Loki has ever seen.

He leans forward on the sofa, eyes wide and fixed intently on the television. He has been sat here watching the news since Tony was called away for Avengers business. Initially the situation was a super-powered terrorist hostage scenario. The fiends utilised advanced technology for their powers, but what was the point in that when they faced Midgard's mightiest mortal mind? Loki had very much enjoyed watching Tony tranquillise them and hack their systems, gliding around flashily in his super-suit. He had fantasised for a moment that Tony did it to impress him, but in reality he knows the man simply enjoys putting on a show.

Then everything took a turn for the worst. 

Bruce Banner had attended the mission. Loki assumed this had something to do with his non-Hulk skills and expertise. The news camera had recorded him ushering civilians to safety and it had panned across to him just as a bullet went wide, missed him and struck a little girl to his right. Loki's stomach had dropped at the sight of the little blonde thing crumpling to the ground. Banner's had done the same, judging from the look on his face. The world held its breath as he turned and saw the victim. His eyes turned green.

Now the Hulk is the enemy, putting up ten times the fight those enhanced mortals had. He has thrown Black Widow from a fifth-storey window and punched Hawkeye through a truck. Captain America and Thor stand their ground against the beast while Tony evacuates civilians at speed.

Loki flinches when the green monster catches the Captain's shield and smashes the edge of it into Thor's skull with great force. His brother goes down and as the camera moves to the Captain, Loki finds himself fidgeting on the sofa, trying to see to the side and below of the camera's field of vision to get a glimpse of his brother. But this is not scrying and the television shows all of the information that the camera is capturing. No more.

His fingers itch with the urge to conjure the scene before him or stand there in an astral form to look upon all of it. But his older self might track his magic. Not immediately, but it would leave an obvious trail should he choose to follow. Loki is enjoying his peace here far too much. Peace is something his darker self can never know.

Captain America falls. Loki can barely breathe. Surely the man is not dead. They are all of them simply unconscious. Who can stop this beast?

Blasts of energy rain down on the monster and suddenly Loki fears anew as Tony flies in. How high can the Hulk jump? How strong is Tony's armour? These are things he has known before so he goes through his memories, piecing together what is still relevant and what is true of this universe. There are so many memories of so many universes.

The monster roars but Tony is fast. They are trapped, however, forced to battle in the area that has been evacuated. While the Hulk would surely trample civilian bodies in this unprecedented rage, Tony has the foresight to keep him in the empty zone. A man of strategy.

He feels like an Asgardian wife, watching with pride and fear as his warrior man rides into battle.

“Jarvis?”

“Yes, Loki.” It is the form of address he prefers to Odinson or Laufeyson, both of which serve to plunge him into depths of confusing thought. Loki. Nothing more. _All he can ever be._

“Tony will win, won't he?”

“I cannot be certain, sir. However, Mr Stark has a strong record of triumphing in unusual circumstances.”

Loki watches as Tony showers the Hulk with flashes of light and sparks designed to distract and disorient. They do their job and the beast roars as it flails. Tony orbits the huge monster, firing aggressively as the sparks keep the Hulk from finding and grabbing him. This is what will do it, Loki realises. One cannot match the brute punch for punch. Though... he does not remember it being _this_ strong.

For some reason Tony decides to launch a punch down at the Hulk's head. His arm is encased in thick metal and powered by a rocket, but the creature took a blow from Mjolnir and shrugged it off. Tony's blow does nothing but tell the monster where he is.

“You _fool_!” Loki screeches at the television, black nails digging into his knees through the leather.

A green hand almost the size of Loki's torso launches up and clamps around Tony's head. The beast begins swinging him around as Tony fires and kicks. Even at close range, he is not making a dent.

Loki's heart is pounding. “Jarvis, can his Iron Man helmet withstand the Hulk's grip?”

“Yes sir, provided no new factors enter the situation.”

One of the Avengers should surely arise soon. At any moment an explosive arrow would strike the creature blind or Mjolnir would come crashing down upon its skull. Loki waits for the thunder or the righteous voice of Captain America. Any sound other than the cries of Tony as he is smashed down into the ground. Soon Tony sounds more hurt than surprised.

“Is he hurt? Jarvis! Is he injured?!”

“An arm of the suit has been twisted.” Jarvis had been programmed well enough to sound concerned. “The bone has been broken. The helmet has begun to cave under the Hulk's strength. This has forced a metal plate to cut into Mr Stark's head.”

“But you said...” Loki looks again at the screen and forces his gaze off of Tony. He takes a long look at the monster. For a full minute he stares and just as he starts to think his theory may be incorrect, he sees a quick arc of green magic around the Hulk's ginormous thighs.

 _No..._ What does his older self have to gain from this?

Tony's scream of pain brings Loki to his feet. There is no other option. As the Hulk flings Tony down the street like someone skimming a stone on a lake, Loki teleports to the scene.

Tony is on his front, struggling to push himself upright with his good arm. The suit is hanging off of him in places but his refusal to stay down has drawn the Hulk's continued attention. Rubble vibrates along the street as the beast stomps towards the fallen man. Loki runs to reach him first, ducking the swipe of a huge green arm and sprinting to Tony's side.

He drops to his knees beside him on the hard ground. “Stay _down_ you idiot!”

“Loki?” Tony asks, voice sounding mechanical as it comes through the speakers. “What are you doing here? It's not safe!” He tries again to push himself up so Loki slides a hand under his chest and flips him onto his back, hoping not to aggravate any of his injuries.

“Stay down,” he says again, firmly. The Hulk thunders towards them so Loki throws up a shield. When the beast charges it with his shoulder the impact reverberates through Loki's body, almost knocking him as flat as Tony.

“He's not normally this bad,” Tony says. “We're gonna need a bigger hitter. Thor up yet?”

Across the street Thor lies too still. Loki's stomach rolls in fear. He would not have his brother die with such disharmony between them. “I fear that we have no hitters big enough.” He flinches as the Hulk crashes into the magical barrier again.

“Do you...” Tony wheezes as if breath is not currently easy. “...have a plan?”

“I have a spell,” Loki says. “It has worked before, but that was a very different chapter of the story. Things have changed.” He sighs and pats the metal shoulder. “But have hope.” He stands and brushes himself down. “You should fly away if you are able. You are hurt.”

“Maybe you should fly away before you get hurt,” Tony retorts, though he remains laying on the ground.

With a sigh, Loki steps up to the shield. “I should,” he agrees. But is this not what he wanted? A chance to do good? Martyrdom was not an expected part of the job, but he has died before for worse reasons. There is a chance the spell will work, anyway. The problem is the magic of his wicked self that is fuelling the beast's rage. It may prove more powerful than his own enchantment.

The Hulk towers over him, thumping the magic shield over and over. Each punch sends a shiver through Loki's body. He looks up at the maddened green eyes and feels a sort of sympathy for the beast. It cannot help what it is. Forever raging. What is wrong with their universe that such power falls primarily to the mad?

That sympathy has its uses. Loki takes the stirring of his gentler emotion and crafts it into a story. In his story, the beast roars because it is in pain. That pain is fuelled by the cruel magic of an old, malevolent being. Only that being can lift its own curse to restore the faculties of the beast and the ancient sorcerer is far too malicious to ever do so. Luckily, through magical machinations the sorcerer has been reborn kinder than before. He is willing to end the pain that tortures the beast.

If it will let him. Can it recognise what needs to be done? The Hulk stops his pounding on the barrier and stares down at Loki, breathing heavily.

Loki takes a deep breath and drops the magic shield. His eyes staying on the Hulk's, he lowers himself on one knee and stretches up a hand in gentle supplication. The new sorcerer is gentle. He is kind and beautiful and he wants to end the monster's suffering. A story like that cannot possibly end badly, can it?

Can it?

Tony calls him but Loki ignores it, keeping his gaze locked with the Hulk's. “Let me help you,” he whispers.

The Hulk carefully takes his hand.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My girlfriend made a beautiful Loki picture that deserves more appreciation (and I'm sure you're all in the Loki appreciation business). Find it here at her art blog - http://tinidraws.tumblr.com/post/119515523115/agent-of-asgard-loki-it-figures-that-the-day

The scene plays over and over on the plasma. Tony cannot stop watching, drumming the remote on the plaster cast around his broken arm. Some news channels are seeing this as evidence of Loki's reform. Some say he made Bruce hulk out in the first place. Tony isn't even reading the headlines as they roll across the bottom of the screen. His eyes are fixed on Loki as the young god kneels in the rubble and offers a hand to the Hulk. It's so fucking beautiful he wants the image framed on his wall.

“Jarvis, get a still of this printed for me. Landscape. Big enough to go neatly over that worktable.” He points across the room to the table in question.

“Yes, sir.”

At the time, the scene had been terrifying. He wanted to move and propel himself forward, snatch Loki out of the way of the punch he _knew_ was coming. But he couldn't and it never came. He had just managed to raise his arm to aim a repulsor blast at the Hulk when the big green creature took Loki's palm, each finger as big as Loki's slender, black-nailed hand. Loki had not looked back and with a flash of green light the two had vanished.

Bruce is upstairs now, decidedly un-Hulked and fixing Avenger wounds while showering them all with apologies. This was the worst episode of Hulk rage yet and they can all see how badly it has shaken him. Tony already gave up on reassuring him and snuck off back to his workshop. Injured worst, get seen first. The big guy had even given Thor a concussion. Well, Steve's shield took some of the blame for that one. Either way, the thunder god's insistence that his mind could never be addled by combat and his subsequent reluctance to be treated led to a perfect escape opportunity for Tony.

The crappy en-suite shower is running in the little side-room. Jarvis has confirmed it is Loki in there. Tony keeps watching the screen and tries not to imagine that body naked and soapy. Instead he tries to figure out what to say to him. 'Where did you go?' 'How did you do that?' _'I thought you were going to be killed you reckless bastard don't_ do _that to me, I'm supposed to be your safe place.'_

When the water sounds cease, Tony holds his breath. It doesn't prepare him. Loki wanders out in nothing but a little white towel wrapped around his waist. The young god smiles at him. A real smile, not a smirk.

“Oh good, you're alright. I almost doubled back for you, but I did not think your wounds would be life-threatening.”

“And you?” Tony manages, struggling to keep his eyes up. “Are you okay?”

“I am. I was unharmed.”

“Good.” Tony stands. “Because that was a dumb trick you pulled. Could have got you killed.”

The hand that is not holding the towel comes up to rest on the pale, damp skin of Loki's chest, over his heart. “You worried for me? Oh, Tony. If you aren't careful I'll suspect you want more than my body.”

“Maybe I do,” Tony snaps then barrels on through the revelation. “The Hulk was crushing heroes left, right and centre. You shouldn't have put yourself between us like that. He was stronger than normal.”

“The work of my older self, I fear,” Loki says with a sigh, lifting his hand from his chest and examining his black nails. “I was surprised at how easy it was to disentangle the enchantment. But perhaps your deaths were not his real purpose.”

“Come again?” Tony asks. Loki's older self was the root of all that?

Jarvis interrupts. “Sir? Thor is heading towards the workshop.”

“Uh...” Tony shoos Loki but Thor's voice rings out almost as soon as Jarvis finishes warning them. His footsteps thunder down the stairs and Tony turns to face his doom.

“Stark!” The blond god strides right up to him looking no worse for wear, his hammer in his hand hanging low at his side. “Where is he?” He's only twice as loud as the average indoor voice, so he can't be too furious.

“Where's who?” He asks, playing dumb.

“ _Loki_.”

Tony fights the urge to check behind him. Thor should be looking right at his brother, standing where he is. Loki has probably teleported or gone invisible. If Tony checks, it suggests Loki is here after all. So he keeps his eyes firmly on Thor, trying to look confused. It doesn't come easy to a man so intellectually gifted, but he thinks he pulls it off pretty well. He points up at the screens, still playing the same footage.

“I saw the same thing you did, Thor.”

“He stepped in to _save_ you,” Thor growls. Electricity crackles on his hammer. “He would not do that unless he had some investment in you. I ask again Stark, where is Loki?”

“Thor, I don't know!” Tony takes a step back, half to get out of hammer range and half to get away from his team mate's strong post-combat musk. 

“You LIE!” Thor bellows. Tony raises a hand and calmly wipes spittle from his cheek, hoping his affronted look shuts the god up. It doesn't. “Have you learned from him, Stark? That which we thought was a new Loki is nothing but the murderer of new Loki! A vile demon that has stolen his corpse!”

“And what makes you so sure?” Tony asks, folding his arms. This is Loki's _brother_. It shouldn't be down to Tony to believe in the kid. “Come on, Thor. You've had his back through the worst atrocities a villain's ever committed. 'My friends, he is my brother',” Tony says in his best Thor impression. “And now suddenly he's not? Even though he's better than ever?” 

The thunder god is brimming with rage, his blue eyes seeming to spark with power. One day Tony has to bug Bruce to get some readings on that eye glow thing from Thor or Loki. He shakes his head. “You have not heard me, Stark. Loki killed his good self.”

“So if Loki killed Loki, why is there still Loki?” Tony asks. He thinks it's a fair question.

But Thor just laughs. “My friend there is much you do not understand of gods. Or of Loki. His malevolence is the only part of himself that does not change.”

“You're wrong,” Tony says, startling himself with the vehemence of his words. “He saved me today. You said that. Why would he do that if he was the monster you say?”

Thor still looks annoyingly amused. “Do you think he loves you now? Loki has never preserved anything or anyone out of affection, though he uses the appearance of affection to mask his true scheme.”

“Is that why you're bitter?” Tony asks. “You think he's been hiding his crime, using your affection for him? Thor, your brother loves you. Then and now. No matter what weird existentialist mythical bullshit he's gone through. He never meant to be the death of the innocent life and you know what? I'm really not sure he was. Gods are weird.”

“This sympathy is too well-considered to be a result of our earlier battle,” Thor says, casting a glimpse at the screens as he takes another step towards Tony. This time when Tony steps back, he bumps into something. A black-nailed hand clasps around his arm and he glances back over his shoulder to see Loki, visible and watching his brother warily. Yet when Thor looks back at them, he shows no surprise. “You have my brother hidden here somewhere, Stark. That or perhaps he has been visiting.”

“He dropped by,” Tony says, trying not to dissolve into a puddle of confused relief. He can still see Loki's hand on his arm, but apparently Thor can't. Loki's all about the party tricks today, it seems.

“Then you should know he is still a trickster.”

Tony can't help but smile. “I don't doubt it.”

“He is cunning.”

“I'm sure he is.”

“He is dangerous, Stark.”

“Oh, I know. But he's trying, Thor. He loves you and he loves this world and he wants so badly to change. How can he, if you won't see it?”

For a moment, Thor seems to be thinking it over. Tony thinks he might have done something awesome.

But then Thor shakes his head. “Nay, my friend. There are some crimes that cannot be forgiven.”

Loki's hand tightens on Tony's bicep. Thor turns and walks away, his rage seemingly spent. He seems miserable as he trudges up the stairs. Only when he hears the door shut does Tony turn to Loki, who still stands there in nothing but a towel. Tony's movement into his space has left them almost pressed together.

“So... magic to stop him seeing you?”

Loki shrugs slightly. “Easier than invisibility.”

“Uh huh.” Tony swallows and he can't help himself. He reaches up and dips his finger into a droplet of water that rests on Loki's pale shoulder and he drags it along, leaving a little liquid path. He wants to follow the path with his tongue, but he holds back. Licks his lips. “So, uh... you found a way to stop your magic leaving a trail for your older self to find then, I take it?”

Loki is very still under his touch, green eyes trying to hold his gaze for all that Tony avoids it. “I have not.”

That startles him right out of the little romantic scene they're having. “What? But then couldn't he--”

“I could not leave you to die, Tony. And ten spells are no worse than one, as far as the tracing is concerned. I may as well use all at my disposal now. He will be able to find me if I stay here. Then we are left with...”

“Fight and die. Obey and go evil.”

“Indeed.” Loki seems very calm, given the circumstances. Perhaps sad, upset by Thor's righteous ill-informed rant.

“So what are you going to do?” Tony asks.

Loki reaches out his free hand and runs it along Tony's cast. Energy glows green and pulses through Tony's arm. For a moment the pain flares up enough for him to gasp, then it is gone entirely. Loki reaches over with his other hand and wedges fingers from both into the end of the cast before ripping it away from him. The magic seems to pulse hot through his entire body. When it's faded, Tony reaches up to his head where they had stitched his scalp together. Nothing. Not even a bruise. He pokes it to be sure.

They stand together, Tony completely healed and Loki completely naked. 

The god's hands stroke a gentle circle around the arc reactor glowing beneath Tony's shirt. No one has ever made something so innocent feel so good. It sends tingles through his skin, radiating out from his reactor. 

“I'm going to _live_ ,” Loki says, before leaning in and kissing him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well _fuck_ , sorry about that. I totally ruined this chapter on the first posting with my bold font fail. Ugh.
> 
> *headdesk* *headdesk* *headdesk*
> 
> I was panicking and flailing and couldn't find where it had gone wrong so I deleted to have the time to examine it. This should be fixed now.
> 
> Sorry again. If you left comments before I panicked and probably missed them. Feel free to leave comments again or hit me up on tumblr.

Loki understands his brother's love of Midgard better than ever before. Their people are so free to change and to choose. Asgard is stifling and stagnant. Asgard would never riot to reform its method of governance. Asgard would not invent something like the internet. Midgard was once at the mercy of greater beings from other realms but now it has broken free. It designs itself. Humans fight any path when it is laid before them. Loki contemplated these ideas at length but for all the chaotic ideas and inventions of humans it took a visit to a Midgardian library for the understanding to completely overwhelm him.

It was a large library in London. He had been searching for a first-person account of a ritual performed in 1657, but he found himself perusing the fictional works. That was when he found it. **Choose Your Own Adventure**. Curious, he had read through a couple of pages and had been about to put it down when he turned the page and saw the book grant a choice to its reader. A sorcery all of its own. Midgard is a world where each human may write their own story. A world of chaos. Even a work of literature laid out differently to each person. He had sat down and explored each ending, finding another book of its kind when he was done. He had stayed there invisible, reading long after the library had closed.

Now he feels his paths laid out before him, the story unfolding not as an Asgardian tome but as a Midgardian book. Choose Your Own Adventure. The story runs up to this point and he can envision the bold text at the bottom of his page.

“I'm going to live,” Loki says, before leaning in and kissing him. 

**To take a stand against your older self, turn to page 5.  
To acknowledge your tragic destiny, turn to page 11.**

He chooses to take a stand.

There is so much to fight for. Tony is warm against him, chaos made man. They kiss as though it is a contest to undo the other. They wrestle with their desire as they try to move to the bedroom, but then Tony says the couch is closer so Loki shoves him onto it. Tony sprawls back as though he is simply relaxing to watch the television, but his eyes look up and down Loki's body greedily. He makes some comment about age that Loki kisses from his lips, leaning down over the man before kneeling down to tug away his trousers. They are irksome so he clicks his fingers and the denim is gone, along with the other clothing. Loki climbs onto the sofa. Onto Tony's lap. He savours the shaky, indrawn breath of his soon-to-be lover. 

“God you're gorgeous,” Tony murmurs, his hands roaming Loki's pale flesh.

Loki smiles and does not stop touching. He considers telling Tony why he came here of all places. He wants to tell him about the Iron Man background on his starkphone. Wants to confess to the hours spent reading up on him and arguing in his defence in the comments section on news articles about him.

But they will either have all the time in the world or none at all. This is the beginning of something beautiful or the final chapter of Loki's story. Either life will go on and furnish him with another opportunity for honest romantic foolishness, or it will end soon and make him no more than a memory. Loki will not risk it being a heavy memory. Will not let Stark invest himself in something so brief.

They do not want to stop touching but it is Loki's first time so they need lubrication. He does not recall the spell for it and in the excitement he does not trust himself to craft one. Tony calls to one of his machines and the odd tripod-like robot takes a bottle of hand lotion in its claws and wheels itself over to pass it to Tony.

It is not as easy as he remembers from his old life and Loki berates himself for not practising alone more often. It still feels exceptional. Tony has clever fingers, a craftman's fingers, and he watches Loki's face unblinking. For a moment Loki is embarrassed to have his emotions displaying so clearly, but then he recalls how little time they might have. His embarrassment does not matter. He lets Tony see his hesitance and nerves, lets those nerves fade with each jolt of pleasure. When the little noises start to escape from his throat, he lets them fly. Soon Tony is not watching him to check he is alright, rather he is watching with admiration of Loki's pleasure.

The man's cock is full and hard and leaking between them. Loki feels as hungry for it as he had when he saw his first Midgardian pornography. He curls his fingers around the stiff member and starts to stroke the soft skin. Tony stops him in moments with a hand on his wrist and begs to move onto the main event. With such a pretty plea, Loki has no choice but to oblige.

As Tony fills him Loki arches his back and scratches Tony's. There is a hint of pain to it. He has had many lives, many first times, but to be so innocent as to feel the pain... He cannot remember it. And here on Midgard, straddling the human he has so secretly admired, it feels the strangest and most enjoyable of all his first times. Perhaps it is the threat hanging over them.

A spell comes to mind and Loki brings a hand around to Tony's chest while lifting his hips up and dropping them down. Tony has one hand cupping Loki's bottom, following his rise and fall with gentle caresses of his thumb. His other hand splays across Loki's chest, relentlessly teasing one sensitive nipple. Loki feels a thrill at his own responsiveness and wantonness. Oh, to be new again and again, to feel touch for the first time every time.

Still he works his magic, fingers dancing over Tony's skin with faint green light as he traces necessary symbols. Tony's lips go to Loki's neck so he does not notice. The way he suckles at the skin, hard and hungry, it makes Loki cry out louder than intended. There will be a bruise, he realises. A mark of possession and desire. He wants them _everywhere_.

He had expected Tony to be a vocal lover but the man seems breathless with want. Erotic groans are the only sound Loki hears from him until climax, when his name spills passionately from Tony's lips. Loki scoops it up in a kiss, their tongues tangling together until Loki is moaning into Tony's mouth, bucking his hips as he tightens reflexively over and over around the manhood inside and spills his seed over Tony's skin.

They pant together. They relax. They rut again on the sofa. They stagger to the small bedroom and Loki wickedly wrings one more rut out of Tony before sleep takes them both. He thinks they will do it again when they wake. And perhaps again after their feast of breakfast meats.

But they do not. Loki is woken by mocking laughter. His older self stands in the corner of the room.

“How adorable. But do you really think this is an option for us? Love with an _Avenger_? This...” He waggles a finger between Loki and Tony. “Will not end well. My guess? He breaks your heart. I mean, he's already got you locked in the basement like disposable jailbait. Then you murder him in cold blood and have to fight the rest of the Avengers for your crime. The world would hate you for killing their technological saviour and you would finally realise that there is no redemption out there that can manage us.”

“You guess,” Loki reiterates quietly.

“Huh?” His older self looks perplexed for a moment, losing the grin.

Loki pushes himself up into a sitting position. “You said you guess how this ends. If you are guessing, it means you do not know. And if you do not know, then nothing is set in stone, is it?”

His older self does not look at all concerned about this logic. He throws his arms out wide in an exaggerated shrug. “Stone, no. Elastic. Things can stretch for a while, but they always ping back. The further you stretch, the harder the universe snaps back. I'd be careful if I were you.”

“ _If_ you were. But you're not.” Tony stirs beside him as his voice grows louder. “And I am done letting you dictate my actions! I will not become you! I am not the All-Mother's pawn!”

“You're Iron Man's barely-legal fucktoy instead,” his older self said with an eyeroll. 

Beside Loki, Tony suddenly sits up and backs up to the headboard. This bed is barely big enough for the two of them and Loki feels better for the warmth of his lover pressed against his side. “Holy shit, that's...”

Loki's older self waves cheerily. “Do you recognise me, lover? Fancy a threesome?”

“You'd better get the fuck outta here,” Tony growls, courageous even without his armour.

“What, you only want me when I'm a spring chicken?” Older Loki asks, cackling afterwards. Always laughing, always darkly amused. Loki cannot become him. He will not be this mad thing again.

“Listen--” Tony starts aggressively, holding up a pointing finger at Loki's older self.

“No.”

The blast of magic sends Tony crashing from the bed and Loki cries out. “Jarvis! The Avengers!” They might kill both Lokis but better that than risking Tony. He dives from the bed to Tony's side, running a hand over him to check the effects of the spell. Tony's eyes are closed, but he is breathing and his arc reactor is working.

“The machines have gone deaf and blind,” his older self says, still grinning. “I'm thinking our sweet sugar-daddy will join them soon enough.”

Further examination reassures Loki that Tony has only been shocked. He will wake any moment. The spell might have been deadly, if not for the protection ritual Loki performed during their first rut the night before. He breathes a shuddering sigh of relief and stands to face his foe. Himself.

“Don't cry,” the echo of the future says in a simpering voice. “You waste so much time doing that.”

“Not anymore,” Loki says, summoning a sword to his hand. 

They fight. His older self battles like it is a particularly easy game that only provides enjoyment to him if he lasts it out. He dodges and ducks and uses magics that Loki should see straight through. But he is frightened and he is upset and there is so much that depends on this battle that his rage gets the better of him. He swings his blade at shadows and spins to face echoes. It goes on until he tires, then his older self catches the blade in his hand. Loki cannot dislodge it from his grip, even though the blade should be drawing blood. 

Then the other hand wraps around Loki's neck and squeezes. Air beats against the prison of his lungs. Air circles around his mouth awaiting entry. His older self holds him there, finally staring at him with the disgust and distaste that he has hidden thus far behind mockery and madness. 

“You just aren't going to cut it, are you?”

What is the spell to dispel the necessity of breathing? He has known it in another life when he swam through a sea. He cannot think of it now. His mind is frantic and unfocused. 

“Oh well. Like the ouroboros, I create myself. Which means...” He leans in, his eyes dark and insane and full of the worst possible worlds. Loki realises, finally, why nobody who knew him before can ever trust him now. No one can trust this. “...I don't need you.”

The hand squeezes tighter. Tighter. If it can ever be removed, indents of his fingers will forever be in Loki's skin. His bruise will cover Tony's mark of passion. Loki scratches in vain at the bony fingers wrapped around his neck. Even with both hands he cannot pry it away. He cannot shout for Tony. There is no strength left in him to kick out. _Tony get up, please get up, help me, help yourself, save me, run, Tony, Tony, Tony--_

Snap.

Everything is gone.

The end.

 

Except... 

It is not a very satisfactory ending to such a troubled tale. An end so brief, with so much left unanswered.

No, Loki does not like that projected plotline at all.

**To take a stand against your older self, turn to page 5.  
To acknowledge your tragic destiny, turn to page 11.**

He follows the path not taken.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally effed up the bold text on the last chapter, which might have made it a little confusing and disappointing. Sorry about that. I was panicking to try and fix it so in the end I deleted it and reposted. That means I lost any of the initial comments made on it. Apologies! I can't vouch for this chapter being lighter than the last, tbh. I had initially planned to put both this and the previous chapter together, but they became more involved than I'd anticipated.
> 
> I should mention again that my Avengers are movie-based, but there is a brief vague reference in here to Axis!Tony. (For those who have read Agent of Asgard, Axis was when Loki went really super good and turned himself into a rainbow unicorn. At the same time, the heroes were going bad and for Tony that meant becoming a bigger capitalist douche, selling Extremis apps and living a life of depravity off of his ill-gotten gains. My firstborn for anyone who writes Axis!Tony/Axis!Loki fic.)

“I'm going to live,” Loki says, before leaning in and kissing him.

**To take a stand against your older self, turn to page 5.  
To acknowledge your tragic destiny, turn to page 11.**

He chooses to believe there was never a choice. Only the illusion of choice. His story is about chaos, but the narrative is controlled by order. His life is a cautionary tale from Asgard about the perils of expecting change. History is recorded by the victors and Loki has never won. He cannot take charge of this story.

The kiss is soft and bittersweet. Will he be able to have this when he is mad? Such softness, such kindness, such _love_. One day Loki will no longer recognise love. Even now he is not sure he understands it.

“You okay?” Tony asks, looking into his eyes.

“I am,” Loki reassures him. But for how long?

Loki takes Tony's warm hand and leads him through to the little bedroom. “Do you want me?”

Tony sighs and nods. “I shouldn't. There are so many reasons I shouldn't. But...” He shrugs. “Even as a hero I don't do as I should.”

That is something Loki can use. He steps in close and begins to unbutton Tony's red silk shirt, listening to the man's breathing pick up in speed as he watches. 

“I've never slept with a god before,” Tony murmurs.

“Well this one's a virgin,” Loki replies with a slight chuckle. “So be gentle.”

And he is. Once nude, he lays Loki down on the bed as though he is precious and lays kisses all over him. The backs of his legs, his belly, up his arms, his chest... all are recipients of the kindest kisses. It feels like worship and Loki decides his fate will not be so bad if he can keep this. He can keep this, can't he?

“My starkphone has an Iron Man wallpaper,” he confesses breathessly, staring at the ceiling as Tony kisses him in private places. His confession makes Tony hesitate and lift his head to grin at him. Loki meets his gaze and says, “I lied when I said why I came to you. It was not a logical, rational choice. It was purely wishful thinking. I wanted you in my story so very badly.”

His lover crawls up to kiss him on the cheek. “And I want to be here. Don't look so worried. It's all gonna work out just fine. I believe in you.”

It makes Loki shiver. “You shouldn't,” he whispers.

“Told you, I don't do as I should.”

He wants to confess the important things, to tell Tony his realisation and end this wonderful moment, but what would be the use? The universe is elastic. The details will change but the story will end as it always has. Loki can have this. He may not have won the respect of Asgard or the love of his brother, but he has fought hard and surely deserves a little consolation for that. 

Tony is almost frustratingly gentle and patient. Loki enjoys the first climax simply from the work of Tony's clever fingers inside him. Tony pets him through the shudders and kisses him sweetly. “Let me know when you want more.” 

Loki responds by taking his hard member in hand and guiding it to his entrance. “I always want more,” he whispers, meaning even more than this.

Their pleasure is slow and sweet, a steady build of desire that has Loki ready to spill again before Tony is even done. A spell comes to mind and Loki brings a hand up to Tony's chest while he writhes underneath the glow of the arc reactor. Tony's hands are fisting in the bedding, one clenched in the pillow while one scrabbles at the sheets lower down. He ducks his head to lick at Loki's nipple, his hair tickling Loki's skin as pleasure jolts from his chest to his groin. Tony's cock keeps a slow and steady pace inside Loki's body, forcing him to focus intently on the spell lest he ruin it with the distraction of sexual ecstasy.

“I do not want this to end,” he gasps, bringing his legs up higher behind Tony.

“Sssh, it doesn't have to,” Tony murmurs.

No it does not. The details may change. Nobody said Loki has to be alone in his madness and villainy. His solitude is a mere detail. 

He cries out Tony's name when he orgasms. He must make a pretty sight as Tony follows him over the edge mere moments after. They lay together panting with Tony pressing sweet kisses along his jaw because he does not know what lies ahead.

The night passes and Loki does not sleep at all. His fingers dance around the blue light of Tony's arc reactor and he contemplates removing the spell. He did not spend time with Tony during the inversion incident, when the combined power of the Red Skull, Doom and the Scarlet Witch caused all heroes to fall to base villainy. He has heard how Tony behaved, however. He has seen footage on the internet and heard from Tony himself how he has fought to repair the damage he caused. Will it be that drunk greedy capitalist that arises from Loki's magic? He hopes not. He hopes Tony is still Tony while accepting Loki's descent into being Loki.

They spend more time on their pleasure in the morning, Tony ordering Jarvis to get a brunch delivery from a stylish restaurant down the road. He requests 'all the breakfast meats' and Loki laughs.

In the days that follow, Loki looks for opportunities to create mischief and mayhem. It always begins small, he recalls. Amusing people first. Annoying them second. Angering them third. Avoiding justice for any of it until a huge mountain of crimes unpunished looms ahead. Then it is a constant quest to stay ahead, to fight for his life, to defend himself. To strike first so that he is not struck.

For a moment a hallucination, a glimpse of his child self, appears. It begs him to stop. It begs him to change.

But that was never a real option. That was a fantasy.

Thor is the catalyst. Is he not always? Another example of the story refusing to change. He catches them, Loki bent over the back of the sofa with Tony thrusting into him. Thor's anger is wild and spills in all directions, raging at Loki and Tony both. Loki knows his role in all this. He speaks soft words designed to rile his brother into a worse state. Tony calls his suit to defend himself and Thor raises his hammer. That is when Loki strikes, raising a shield that reflects the damage back on his brother tenfold.

When Thor is unconscious he and Tony plan quickly. S.H.I.E.L.D will ask difficult questions, but Tony can remove all evidence of Loki's presence from the surveillance. He works quickly, creating fake footage to overwrite what was there. That way, when Fury asks him for his records he can hand them over freely. A cooperative, helpful Avenger. 

Loki goes with him to the briefing and to the cell where they are holding Thor until they understand the reason he attacked. Loki stays invisible to all except his brother. Seeing Thor's rage finally ends his naïve hope for fraternal affection. Thor had disowned him thoroughly. How could Loki have ever hoped to make amends when the mere sight of him drives Thor almost into a frenzy?

He grins at his brother and drapes himself over Tony while his lover asks the questions Fury told him to ask. Tony keeps a straight, concerned face throughout while Loki laughs and taunts his brother. Thor is frothing with rage. 

“My brother is _right there_ , Stark! He mocks you! He mocks us all!”

Eventually Tony is forced to sigh and depart. For a time S.H.I.E.L.D suspect some trick of Loki's, but he manages to spread doppelgangers about to make himself seem busy. Soon the easiest conclusion is settled for. Thor is kept locked away, studied by well-paid psychiatrists.

Asgard take that poorly. Loki prepares his lover for war. Tony relishes the opportunity to take out some 'unappreciative, unimaginative gods' and Loki knows better than ever that his spell is working. He wants it to be love though. He tells himself it might just be love. 

Captain America falls in the Asgardian invasion. Tony asks Loki why they are doing all this and Loki has to intensify his spell.

It does not take much manoeuvring to twist the enchantment he previously used on the Hulk. While he had initially had the best of intentions, he no longer does. The green beast will now be his thrall.

Hawkeye catches them. Loki kills him. Tony is in too deep to question him. The spell does not even require further work. Loki no longer worries that he has lost some special part of Tony. The villain he is becoming does not need to worship a hero.

Black Widow has always been more cunning than Loki likes. He does not know when she figures them out, only that she releases Thor from S.H.I.E.L.D custody. 

“Vile, manipulative, murdering wretch! I _knew_ we were wrong to have faith in you! Would that I had killed you when I had the chance! I shall avenge my comrades!”

Loki has been building his power, increasing his mastery of spellcraft and manipulation, but some things never change. Thor will always have a hand in the beginning and end of his story. Thor's words always lead Loki to a path of manipulation and Loki's violence is always ended at the heft of a hammer.

But this time an armoured Midgardian steps in to absorb the killing blow.

In his mania and mayhem, Loki had forgotten that he had anything to lose. Mjolnir, powered by Thor's all-consuming rage, smashes through the Iron Man suit like a bullet through paper.

For a moment all is silent but for the wind whipping through their battle scene, the ruined streets of New York. Thor stares in shock at another dead Avenger, this one by his hand.

The silence shatters as Loki _screams_. The magical shockwave blows Thor back off of his feet and Loki hopes it will melt the flesh from his bones. Energy burns the air and turns stone and metal to dust. Cars are flung into buildings and no one escapes. The wave moves out, bigger and bigger as Loki asks the Universe...

_“IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED?!”_

It was never villainy they were pushing him to, but madness. Perhaps they never knew that. Suddenly, amidst the crumbling city and the fading screams, Loki realises why his older self came back to harass him.

There will be no one else left.

After the storm, he falls to his knees and cradles red and gold metal. He does not cry. He cannot remember how. All he remembers, when he thinks back, is that he made this choice. It was this or the other.

 

**To take a stand against your older self, turn to page 5.  
To acknowledge your tragic destiny, turn to page 11.**

 

_“There's gotta be a third option,”_ Tony had said so long ago. His dear Tony. Loki presses his head to the cooling metal even as this reality fades around him. 

A third option.

He opens his mind to the idea. Something he has not thought of. Something he would normally never think of. 

Perhaps he has been going about this all wrong. All this time he has been trying to write himself a better story. A heroic epic, a lamentable tragedy. And maybe those are his only options, if he is a god made of story.

But he is Loki. He is change.

If they will not let him rewrite his story, he will burn the book and all their sorry endings.


	10. Chapter 10

Tony wakes alone.

For a while he waits, fondly remembering the night before while expecting to hear a sound from the small en-suite bathroom or the television from the workshop. 

“Loki?”

There is no response so Tony drags himself upright and staggers groggily from the little bed. He has not slept well, despite exhausting himself with Loki. No regrets at all. It isn't even the fact that he can now legitimately say he took a god's virginity. 

No, his satisfaction has very little smugness in it. For once. With the ability to summon sex by simply leaving the house (or dropping a message anywhere online), Tony rarely enjoys a night of passion that feels like there is something more to it. His own first time, that had been special in a terrifying kind of way. His first time with a recurring partner, that had made him feel unusual things. His first time as Iron Man, not in the suit but with all the weird superhero connotations that made him think more than he usually would while fucking, that had been memorable. His first time with Pepper, now that was something. And last night with Loki has him feeling like that all over again. As much as his brain keeps bringing up thoughts of Loki's taste in his mouth and the sight of that perfect, pale ass, the fact remains that it was more than just sex. The sex was just one part of the bigger project, whatever this is that they're working on together. 

He laughs to himself as he wanders into the workshop. What a scary and exciting idea. A relationship of sorts with the God of Chaos. At some point they will actually have to tell Thor.

The thought brings back his nightmare. His dreams were confused and unsettling and now he recalls what woke him – the vision of Mjolnir slamming down into him as he tried to protect Loki from his big brother's justice. Justice that...might have been deserved? He doesn't quite remember.

“Jarvis, where's Loki?” Maybe he's getting breakfast.

“Unknown, sir. He teleported from the bedroom approximately three hours ago.”

That is no breakfast run. Tony's renewed enthusiasm for life begins to bleed away. “He didn't say anything?”

“Your guest left a handwritten letter on the table beside your bed, sir.”

Tony stomps back into the bedroom and snatches up the piece of paper. Paper, how old-school. It has been folded, his name written on the front with a black marker in jagged capitals that give the writing an almost runic appearance. Tony opens it like ripping off a band-aid. 

_Dearest Tony. I do not know if my absence requires explanation. A selfish part of me hopes that it does, that you have become fond enough of me that my absence troubles you. If that is not the case, then discard this and think nothing more of me. I will bother you no longer. However, if you are worried for me I will ask you not to be. I care for you. I did not leave due to boredom or insecurity or for any reasons other than safety. My older self may track my magic to your tower but he will see I am no longer there and seek me elsewhere. If I stay, he would kill us both._

Again Tony is nudged by a memory of his nightmare. Loki's older self in the bedroom, looking down at them with murder in his eyes. He shivers and casts a look around the workshop, feeling a little like a child who forgot to check under the bed before turning off the light. But he is alone, as far as he can tell. 

_Forgive me for my cowardice. Death is not what I seek. There have been moments that was not true, but none of them with you. At the risk of sounding like a naïve fanboy, I am somewhat in love with you. Sorry. We would not have made a wonderful tale if I stayed. We would have died or worse. You were correct – I need to search for another option. Hopefully I have found one. I am leaving this story. I do not know where I will go, but I will not go as a God of Chaos or a hero seeking redemption. I go as a maker of minor mischief, as a being of little consequence. A sort of road trip, if you will. You said that villains do bad and heroes do good, but Midgard has a middle ground. Billions of people who do little. Their stories are insignificant. Nothing is gained, nothing is lost. That is the life I am going to try. One without poetry. One without battle or love._

_I will think of you fondly and miss you terribly. You have shown me great kindness and great wisdom. Please do not think less of your frightened god. I simply could not bear to lose you. Or kill you._

_There. You now hold the record for most truth heard from the God of Lies._

_Yours,  
Loki_

Tony put the paper down on the desk to avoid scrunching it up in his hand. “Jarvis? Can you find any trace of him at all? Any sign of his energy signature or anything?” He knows he programmed some possible search mechanisms into his AI, but Loki is so changeable and elusive that it's always a gamble as to whether or not any of it will work.

“I'm sorry, sir. I cannot locate him.”

He wants to punch something. If he could get his hands on Loki right now he would shake those narrow shoulders and try and talk some sense into him. He can't just run away! He ought to stay and...

His mind draws out the nightmare again. The vicious older Loki surprising them in the night with a violent visit. The younger Loki might be no match for him. 

Picking up the note again now that he can trust himself not to tear it, Tony trudges back out into the workshop. He reads it over once more, his gaze sticking to the word 'love'. _Somewhat in love with you_ , what the hell does that mean? _Somewhat_ in love?

“Sir...” Jarvis requests his attention.

“Well fuck you,” Tony says, still scowling at the note, “I'm _somewhat_ in love with you too, asshole.”

“Um, should I come back another time?”

Tony jumps and looks up where Bruce Banner is standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking awkward. Jarvis must have been trying to alert him to his visitor.

“No. No, that's fine. What's up?”

“I wanted to check up on you after yesterday.”

Oh yeah, the battle. Tony shrugs. “I'm fine.”

“Yeah. I can see that.” Bruce frowns. “Your broken arm and stitches seem to have healed very well.”

Crap. Tony eyes the limb that had been snapped by the Hulk. “Is there any chance you'd believe I've created a device that mends broken limbs overnight?”

“I could believe that,” Bruce says amicably. “At this moment I don't, but I could. I could believe a lot of you.”

“Why do I suspect you don't mean only positive things?” Tony asked, teasing.

Bruce walks past him towards the desk. He stands there and looks up at the image Tony had requested for the wall. Jarvis must have got the bots to take care of it for him while he and Loki were...

Fuck, he's going to miss Loki. How did he not realise he had fallen for him so fast? It already feels weird not having him down here.

His friend and ally is still staring at the picture and Tony only realises now how tactless it could seem. The picture of Loki showing courage and grace in the face of Bruce's loathed dark side. “Uh... sorry. I just liked the shot. Want me to take it down?”

“No. It's fine. I understand.”

“Do you?” Tony asks, wondering.

Bruce turns to him with an expression on his face that Tony doesn't understand, though it doesn't look to be anger about the picture at least. “Is he here?” Bruce asks quietly.

“What?”

“Loki.”

“Why would you think that?” Tony asks, looking at Bruce like he's crazy. “What, I regularly house ex-supervillains in my basement? That's a thing I do?”

His science bro just smiles, apparently not taken in by Tony's rapid questions. “We got a chance to talk after he removed me from the fight. He never explicitly said he was here but something gave me the impression he wasn't far from you.”

Tony sighs. If Loki spoke to Bruce then so can he. “He wasn't far. Now he is.”

Something in his tone must give him away because Bruce loses the smile immediately. “What happened? He seemed sincere in his intentions.”

He hands over the note. It's easier than explaining anything and Bruce is the first person Tony has known to refer to Loki as 'sincere'. That earns him some credit as far as this is concerned.

“I didn't know you two talked,” Tony says, folding his arms. “Loki never said.”

“It took him a little while to return me to normal,” Bruce explains as he reads the note. “He talked throughout I think, though I only remember what he said once I was... me. He told me about what's been going on and...” He trails off, attention taken by something in the note. He looks up at Tony. “You okay?”

Tony shrugs, arms still folded. _Defensive posture_ says the echo of some psychiatrist dredged up from his memory. “Sure. It was fun, but he's got places to be.”

“Are you going to look for him?”

“He left for a reason.”

Turning away, he goes over to one of his workbenches and draws a project close. He's been working on a neat little gadget for Natasha's birthday and the wiring needs a little reorganisation. Hopefully the present will make up for the fact that he sneakily found out when her birthday is.

Bruce's sigh makes Tony grit his teeth. When Bruce says nothing more, Tony whirls around and snaps, “What?” Picking a fight with the Hulk. This is why he's the smartest guy in the world.

But Bruce's eyes don't turn even slightly green. “I just liked the idea that you might have finally found someone who could keep up with you.”

“Yeah.” Tony sighs, his rage fading quickly as he frowns at the floor. “Me too. Who'd have thought it. Loki, of all people. Jailbait Loki.”

“Well sure,” Bruce says, grinning, “normal Loki wouldn't have been nearly scandalous enough.”

“This is his normal now,” Tony points out. He doesn't want anyone remembering that old psycho one as his Loki. “That old one is gone. Or at least, he will be.”

His science bro ponders that for a little while and Tony returns to Natasha's gizmo. Damn, what's her favourite colour? Has to be black and red, surely. Black would be better for sneaking...

“You think Loki has a plan. To deal with this threat, I mean.”

“I think so.”

He must have. He can't just... vanish. Can he? It's impossible to imagine Loki wearing grubby casual clothes and doing some shopping at Walmart, living in whatever apartment he can afford on a minimum wage. That can't be what he means to do.

“Well, when that's done, maybe he'll come back.”

Tony tenses at the optimism, but forces himself to breathe and nod. “Maybe.”

Bruce squeezes his shoulder. “You know where I am if you need to talk.”

“Thanks.”

After he's gone, Tony picks the letter up again from the desk where Bruce set it down. He reads it again twice. He doesn't work on tracking him down. He doesn't ask Jarvis to keep records of magical disturbances across the country. He doesn't ring the number he notices in his phonebook for 'lol-ki' (a reference to the fact he's more fun than the older Loki or a snarky nod to the idea that their whole thing was for shits and giggles?).

He doesn't get any work done. He doesn't get any sleep that night.

He doesn't let it take over his life. He doesn't tell anyone else why he's so 'grouchy'.

Six months go by.

He doesn't forget.

When the older version Loki finally shows his face, haggard and maddened and wild, Tony doesn't hesitate to dial the number mysteriously left in his phone.

“Hey lover, you busy? Got a villain with your name on it. Literally.”

He does hope Loki still checks his voicemail.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking of participating in the frostiron bang - http://frostironbang.tumblr.com/ as I have a story I've been wanting to do that might work nicely as a bang. Take a look at the blog if you're interested in participating as an author or artist! I'm not sure there's much more of Story & Sorcery left to go, so hopefully it won't distract me.

The man in the bed has what they call 'designer stubble'. Like Tony. Dark hair, like Tony. An expensive suit thrown carelessly onto a chair, like Tony. Loki had seen him drinking fancy cocktails and leering charmingly at women the night before in the casino and he simply had to have him. Another notch for the bedpost. It would be embarrassing how many 'not-Tony' notches he has tallied up, if not for the fact that no one but him is counting.

But it is not Tony sleeping in Loki's luxurious hotel suite. As a result, the man wakes to find himself alone in the bed. He blinks with confusion for a moment and no doubt, a hangover, before he sees Loki sprawled over the armchair by the television wearing black skinny jeans and a t-shirt as though he has been awake for hours. Maybe he has. He got up to do some work and lost track of time.

“Um...” The man rubs a hand over his face to wake himself up. “Was there a... uh... a woman, she... is this your room?”

Loki smirks. “My sister. I must apologise. She is most inconstant in her desires.” He takes another sip of his cafe-bought coffee and watches the man stumble from the bed, clutching the sheets to his naked body to hide from Loki's gaze. Poor thing, not realising Loki has already seen it. Touched it. Licked it.

Grabbing his suit from the chair, the man staggers into the bathroom to dress. Loki chuckles. Today might not be so bad.

Though, are any days really so bad? He is a man of leisure, no commitments but what he sets for himself. No _destiny_. Every so often he remembers that as if it is a new idea and it makes him so happy he wants to hug himself. But he gets on with things. He works on his project, plucks something small out of the newspaper to deal with, eats at pleasant restaurants, then gets absolutely obliterated in the casino and gives himself to anyone who looks at him long enough.

It is the Midgardian way. It feels hollow.

An announcement of 'breaking news' draws his attention up to the television screen on the wall, but it is only some threat that the Fantastic Four are dealing with. He rolls his eyes and peers into his over-priced coffee.

He hopes Tony is doing better. It has been a while since Loki checked in on him. He fears his own lack of willpower. A couple of months ago he posed as a S.H.I.E.L.D agent just to see him again in person. It was as the media had said – Tony seemed tired. Some papers and tawdry websites had claimed he was dealing with alcoholism again, but Loki had done a little investigation which put his mind at ease on that front. Tony was not destroying himself. He was just sad.

That is something Loki thoroughly understands, for all his freedom. 

The gentleman from the night before emerges from the bathroom. He looks a little more alive, but still discombobulated as he straightens out his suit. “Uh, could you tell your sister I had a nice time? If I see her around I'd be happy to treat her to dinner or a drink.”

“You don't remember her name, do you?” Loki asks, grinning.

Lips open and close a few times as the man fishes for words. Then he shakes his head and blusters out of the door in mortification. Loki laughs. The little joys make the day. 

After finishing his coffee he gets back to work. At first he brings the laptop to the bed, but the sheets are rumpled and they smell of sex. He could whisk it all fresh with magic in a matter of moments, but he is put off all the same and retreats to the tiny desk in the corner.

His magic is much stronger than it was. He has been practising, remembering lifetimes ago when he first discovered sorcery and the excitement it could bring. He channels that renewed enthusiasm into studying magic as if he is a new student and this time around, he does not allow his mind to take tangents into specialised areas of dark magic. The knowledge of that macabre matter is not lost, merely waiting to be necessary. Loki does not need it yet. He focuses instead on the subjects that did not interest him so much in former lives. Social magic plays a major part in his current project. Magic melding with Midgardian technology is another area of interest. There is something incredibly exhilarating in knowing he is probably the first person to integrate particular spells with the internet. He will not be the last, but that is no problem as long as he is the best.

Tony would be fascinated. The thought tugs at his heart and he stops typing. 

Not for the first time, he thinks about going back. He wonders if Tony would be angry with him or even reject him. After all, Tony would never have understood the dangers that lay in both of Loki's projected paths. He may have preached about finding another way, but he probably imagined that way would involve Loki staying with him. Or maybe not. But what else could have caused his depression, so deep and obvious that Loki finds himself attacking other commenters in online forums discussing Iron Man's behaviour? 

The whole thing makes him feel so guilty that he would return in a heartbeat, if not for the fact that fate would drop its axe down upon him. Or perhaps its hammer.

He takes a deep breath and thinks again on his visions. Wonders once more if the magic he used to see them was reliable. Still, be they true or not they are risks. He does not want to die at the hand of his older self and he _cannot_ watch Tony die for his madness. This separation is necessary.

At first, when he fled the workshop and wandered the world lost, he thought their separation permanent. Visions of smashed red and gold armour cradled in his arms left him wanting as much distance between himself and Tony as possible. He spent a month running, then a month hiding. Eventually he realised he was not being chased. He got to work on warding himself from the sight of his older self and finding methods of communication that would not be detected. A simple curse updated and mixed with a Snapchat hack lets him message Verity Willis and Billy Kaplan (aka Wiccan) without putting them in any danger. Verity worries. Loki expected that. 

It was a surprise to hear that the Young Avengers worried for him too. He only contacted Billy once the project came to mind. He had needed some input on matters of magical practise on Midgard. It had taken two days of emotionally-charged messages back and forth before Loki could even broach the subject he wished to discuss. It might have taken less time if the messages were longer, but he works with what he has.

For months he had considered sending Tony a brief message, but he cannot risk it. Tony has too many clever tracking devices. If his older self finds any evidence of Loki's continued attachment, Tony will be in danger. Better sad than dead.

As he types away and flits from blog to social network to news site, Loki hopes once again that he is on the right track. His older self is incredibly intelligent and not exactly out of touch with life on Midgard. But keeping up with advancements is very different from living amongst them. His older self takes whatever he needs, but with little attention to anything else. He has tunnel vision, using people, cultures and technology for what he wants and ignoring anything that cannot be immediately applied to his own schemes.

Mayhap Loki is not so different from that after all. His project has one purpose – ending the story that the All-Mother and his older self began to tell without his consent. All that he learns he applies to his work, try as he might to expand his horizons. 

An email comes through. That makes about ten new messages since he started this afternoon, so he opens them up to check en-masse. Many are reviews for the latest chapter of his Tony/Loki RPS. A masochistic hobby, but it is all useful for the project. At least, that is what he tells himself. His fantasies may as well go on a page for the perusal of others.

He replies to each one and helps build upon fan-theories, then nips over to entertainment news in case Tony is in the headlines. There was rumour of a rift among the Avengers a month or so ago and Loki worries. If it is anything to do with distrust between his brother and Tony, he will feel terribly guilty. 

According to various websites, Tony has been seen enjoying the company of an attractive young actress at an awards ceremony. That is not unusual. In fact, it should not even make the news. The photos still make Loki pine. Why should another not bring Tony pleasure though, since Loki has determined he must stay away?

The internet is vastly distracting, but it is an invaluable tool for his project. Loki closes the tab with the photos of the awards ceremony and gets on with his work. The only interruption in the following hours is when his phone alerts him to a message. It is from Billy, a photo of his computer screen with a question: **What exactly are you up to?** Loki looks at the shot of Billy's screen and smiles to himself. He does not respond to the message. 

It is no concern that Billy can see signs of the web he is weaving. Billy is young, mortal, magical and knows Loki. Four factors that give him an advantage when it comes to detecting a powerful ritual of this kind. Not that the situation has a precedent. There has never been a ritual of this kind, though Loki can draw parallels with certain cult magic in other realms.

As evening draws on, the city grows louder. He wonders if it might be time to move on from Las Vegas, as fun as it has been. He came here on a whim, remembering Tony's notion of them hitting up a casino together. After some time in England, France and Japan, Loki wanted somewhere American again. It is a little easier to keep an eye on Tony here. Still, there are American cities he has never seen. It might be nice to try another location. The staff in this hotel all know his name and while he has cast the appropriate spells to prevent them discussing him, it is only a matter of time before his stay here is noticed. As his project develops, the more risk there is in it being discovered. Unfortunately, the project increases the interest people may have in locating him. There is a popular Reddit thread dedicated to tracking him down. He does not even need to participate in it anymore to urge it along.

Finally he pushes himself back from the computer. The little desk and chair were not designed or bought with long-term use in mind. This suite is not intended for lonely people with work to do. 

Loki wanders to the minibar and helps himself to a drink. If he is to leave Las Vegas soon he had best enjoy his time here as much as he can. He waves a hand and the bed is new. Literally.

He changes into a suit. White shirt, pressed trousers and waistcoat such a dark navy that they are almost black. Silver buttons. Silver tie. Sharp silver cuff-links shaped like snakes that can become daggers with a whisper. He examines himself in the mirror and thinks again about ageing himself. But he thinks of Tony's adorable awkwardness surrounding the 'jailbait' issue, as he referred to it in passing. As if Loki had been unable to tell how often it was on his mind. Not to mention Loki feels a certain fondness for this youth. It brings him nearer to the blank slate he had been reborn as and keeps him separate from the monster he might become.

It is not as though he will not find someone that enjoys the appeal of this body, he thinks to himself as he descends the stairs and crosses the courtyard into the casino. He has enjoyed varied company these past months in many forms. At first he had entertained the notion of 'saving himself' for his return to Tony, but he had swiftly become bored. Besides, Tony has wasted no time in bedding whoever he pleases. Why should Loki do anything else?

Loki drinks and charms and wins a few games. He always graciously shares the wealth when he does, returning a portion to the casino and buying drinks for those who are present at his victory. He can get money from anywhere. It is the victory that is important. Some suspect him of cheating, but that only demonstrates how well he is doing. Like most nights, he stops before suspicion and annoyance becomes angry confrontation. Now that is something he wishes he had learned to do back on Asgard.

A woman not much older than the Midgardian perception of himself finds his antics rather amusing. She is not stereotypically beautiful, but she is certainly not displeasing to see. There is an unusual asymmetry in her features that Loki finds quite endearing. He buys her a drink and she asks excitedly if he is really Loki. He says yes and he tells her a story that will be all over Tumblr by the next afternoon. It is not even that untrue.

The woman's name is Audrey. She is stuck here while her father attends a conference but she confirms that she will not be missed for the night. Loki takes her to his bed and treats her like a princess. Or rather, as someone else would treat a princess.

He sleeps unusually long afterwards. Audrey nudges him when his phone rings, but he mumbles “voicemail” and goes back to sleep. It is at least another hour before he wakes, the woman curled into his side, her phone in her hand. Loki sneaks it out of her grasp, guesses her pin and checks her messages. Sure enough...

**OMG I'VE MET LOKI OMG**

Trying not to disturb her with his laugh, he takes a selfie of himself kissing her on the forehead and tucks the phone back into her hand before leaving the bed. The internet will love this one. 

His head hurts so he spells the ache away and fires up his laptop. As he fetches a bottle of water from the mini-bar he wonders when he will know that his project is finished. There must be a window of opportunity when his web is weaved enough to do the job, before his work becomes apparent and sabotaged. But how will he know? One day he will simply have to pluck up the courage and risk it. The thought of the inevitable confrontation still makes him feel sick to think about today though. (That could be the lingering effects of Midgardian alcohol, however.)

Audrey wakes not long after. She stares at him and he pretends not to notice, engrossed in his work.

“This was just a one night thing, wasn't it?” She asks, convincingly nonchalant and praying in her mind that he says no and marries her.

“I'm afraid so. My company is too hazardous for me to consider any more than that at the moment.” He turns to her, twisting the chair around and puts a hand over his heart. “I do hope that was clear and you were under no--”

“No, that's fine, that's fine!” She says, falsely cheerful. “I totally understand. But um, can I ask a question?”

“Of course.”

“There are so many rumours going around online. Is it true that the evil Loki's some sort of... doppelganger, trying to discredit the Prince of Asgard?”

Loki forces himself to look surprised. “How did you know that? How do mortals learn these things?”

“It's all on the internet,” Audrey says. “Though... you might want to steer clear of some stuff. There's a lot of people who believe Iron Man was hiding you. They write stories about it.”

He cannot keep his smile away. “Do they?”

Audrey claps a hand over her mouth. “Oh my god, is it true?”

“I couldn't possibly speak on any matter that involves dear Tony's reputation.”

The woman looks giddy with the subtle confirmation. She scurries off to the shower and Loki casts a spell to refresh her clothes, aspiring to be the perfect gentleman. Rumours are like fires. They need fuel. Once he has left this place he will lift the enchantment from the staff so that they can tell all who will listen about Loki's presence here. They will tell tall tales of his skill at the games, his charm with the guests, his courteous behaviour to the staff. The tales will get taller as all Midgardians have a silver thread of mischief running through their souls. Before the tenth retelling there will be stories of Loki winning the entire casino in a bet and giving it back to the owner in exchange for lifting the wages of the staff.

When Audrey returns she runs a hand over her neat clothes in wonder. “Did you... fix the hem of my dress?”

“Is that okay? I did not mean to presume.”

“That's fine!” She squeaked, her excitement still overruling her speech. She dresses quickly, pulling the dress down over her little breasts and forcing it over her wide hips. 

“Thank you, Audrey,” Loki says, cramming as much sincerity into the words as he can. “You have been a wonderful break from my usual stresses.”

“Oh, really, the pleasure was all mine.” He knows. He made sure of it. She opens the door and just as she pulls it shut behind her she calls out, “Don't forget to check your voicemail!”

A welcome reminder. Once the door clicks shut Loki goes to the bedside drawers where his phone is resting. Who could have called him? Nobody calls him. Private messages from Verity and Billy are the extent of his communication with acquaintances these days.

_“Hey lover, you busy? Got a villain with your name on it. Literally.”_

Loki's heart pounds. The sound of Tony's voice lifts him. The mention of his older self is a stab in the gut. Is he ready? He does not feel ready.

He turns on the television. New York is all over the headlines.

_“--leaving nobody quite sure where he will strike next. So far no casualties, but injuries are severe and we are receiving constant news of new attacks. The Avengers are striving to relocate citizens to safe areas, but with the erratic attack pattern of the super-villain, it is impossible to know which areas will remain safe. Certainly anywhere that attracts a large number of people is a target for this maniac. Footage suggests the attacker is none other than Loki...”_

An image of his older self appeared in the corner of the screen, green flames dancing on his hands.

_“However, recent footage of the so-called God of Chaos has displayed him looking younger and distinctly less aggressive since the shocking events at Asgard a few years ago. This has led many experts on super-powered crime to theorise that this is a copy-cat attack. If that's the case, there really is no way of knowing just what powers and schemes this madman has or what it will take for the Avengers to stop him.”_

The reporting is better than he could have hoped for. A sign the project is working? Is this the moment he has been preparing for? They are giving him the benefit of the doubt, a realisation that almost brings Loki to his knees. How long has he implored Asgard to forgive and forget, or even just give him a chance? And here, this world with its little people, this is where he is given his chance. There will not be a better moment to strike.

But still he hesitates. There is so much to lose. If he steps back into the story...

No. That is not what he is doing. He has been working too long and hard to lose sight of his scheme now.

With a sigh, he drops a message to Verity and Billy. **Speak fondly of me. Loudly.**

Then he goes back to his computer and puts things into action, half an ear on the broadcast behind him. 

_"It seems that after the blow to Stark Tower, Iron Man intends to tackle this supervillain head-on!"_

Loki sighs again. “Of course he does.”

He still does not feel ready. But what choice does he have?

Rising to his feet, he looks at the television. It reminds him of the battle with the Hulk, but even the Hulk had not caused this level of destruction. When he intervened in that fight, Loki had revealed himself to his evil self, which of course was what the older Loki had wanted all along. That was probably the point of all of this chaos he could see on the screen. The Avengers were just a nuisance to him, bugs easily swatted. Loki watches as Tony flies towards the maddened older Loki and his stomach twists with nerves.

“Alright, Midgard. Pray for me.”

A whisper of magic and he teleports himself to the scene.


	12. Chapter 12

Skyscrapers and apartment blocks pass in a blur as Tony flies through the New York streets. His eyes dart around his interface as he tries to process every little piece of rapidly-changing information to find his foe. He wants to believe Jarvis will alert him to anything significant, but he knows he hasn't designed an AI yet that can figure out magic. He keeps his eyes peeled and stays alert and angry. 

Steve's voice calls out over the communicator. “Stark, fall back, we need to regroup.”

“What, so he can kill us all at once?” Tony scoffs. “Forget that, I'm bringing this bastard down.”

“I know you're upset about the tower...”

“Damn right I'm upset about the tower!”

“...But that can be rebuilt. You can't!”

“Oh come on, Cap, you saw me putting myself together like, fifteen minutes ago. Remember all those machines sticking armour to me? Looked vaguely filthy?”

“You're not the suit, Tony.”

Disapproval rings through Steve's voice.

“I'm bringing him down.”

With that terse statement he shuts off the communicator. Just for a minute, of course, to make his point. He won't keep a radio silence mid-battle. He's not actually suicidal.

He is pissed though and not for the reason the Avengers believe. Yeah, it sucks about the tower. This older, crazier God of Chaos took the whole top floor off, sending significant structural damage right down the north-east corner. Fixing it will require money and skill but Tony has buckets of both. What he doesn't have, what he can't have – because of this fucking psycho – is _Loki_. As soon as that ancient, cackling mad thing showed its face the void in Tony's heart filled with fire. He spent an hour in the workshop working on magical-suppressing fields and an hour with Bruce working on a magic-blocking tranquilliser, but he was too agitated to focus and all their efforts came to nothing. He kept checking his phone, waiting for Loki to call him back. In the end there was nothing for it but to suit up and fight.

It's entirely possible he's going to get himself killed, suicidal or not.

“Sir, Loki is here.”

Tony gasps at the announcement, but he can't see the fucker, nor does Jarvis provide targeting data. “Where? How did you track him?”

“#LegitLoki is trending on Twitter with images taken from the news broadcast.”

“I... okay? He moves too fast Jarv, so while I appreciate you thinking outside the box, I'm not sure the photos will be accurate. Just let me know as soon as you get a lock on him so I can blast that smug grin off his face.”

“I may have miscommunicated, sir. It is the younger Loki that has arrived at the scene.”

“What?”

For a second his mind goes blank. Then something smashes into his side and knocks him off course. He goes down, bouncing across the concrete until he crashes into something that breaks his fall. He's upside-down. When his visor reboots, he looks up to see a sign for a dental clinic. Another hit like that and he might need one to put his teeth back in.

Laughter nearby sends a chill down his spine. His suit is slow to respond, but after a few false starts he manages to get it going and he shoves himself up to his feet. 

“Where are your teammates, Stark? Wanted me all to yourself, did you?”

Glancing at the team tracker data, Tony can see that the others are incoming, but not close. Not as close as this nasty dark side version of his ex-lover. He Who Should Not Be Named Because He Doesn't Deserve The Moniker crosses over the road calmly. There's no need for him to look twice before crossing. The only cars on this street are burnt out. Some are still on fire. All evacuated, thank god.

“Not interested. I'm here to stop you.”

The bastard puts on a ridiculous pout as he invades Tony's personal space. “No? But I thought we were _in love_ , Stark. Don't you even go on the internet?”

Tony's jaw clenches at the teasing. Yes, he _has_ been on the damn internet and he's seen exactly what those demented fans are up to. As if he needed that crammed down his throat when it is as much a fantasy for him as it is for them. Worse, because he had it and lost it.

“I'm not playing with you. I'm ending you.”

He shoves his hand under the unnameable's chin with every intention of blasting his head off. But rather than the satisfying sound of a repulsor blast, the noise is like the sputtering of a car that won't start. Tony stares as green light weaves around his arm like glowing vines. The villain's grin widens.

“Oh dear,” he says quietly, still grinning. “Somebody forgot who they were tangling with.” The vines continue to grow, wrapping around his suit. Tony tries to step back but nothing's responding. And the thing pretending to be Loki looks deliriously pleased, walking his fingers up Tony's immovable outstretched arm. “Or maybe you wanted this. Maybe you're missing the pretty little schoolgirl with my name and you decided to offer yourself in worship to the experienced version?”

“Go to hell,” Tony snarled. 

“Already there,” the villain murmured, eyes glowing green. “Forever burning. Chaos is a feverish sickness that infects order. Midgardians are carriers, like most sentient life, spreading the sickness to every piece of order that they touch. They call it creativity and passion and imagination. Creativity was responsible for the weapons that could annihilate the world. Passion drives people to kill those they love. Imagination creates desire for lives you could never lead, envy unending. It's a _disease_. And I am patient zero. I will never be at peace. I am the fate that awaits your pretty boy.”

“No...” Tony struggles, but he's practically in a metal coffin. He's never been particularly claustrophobic, but this might be the start.

“Yesss,” the hiss comes through jagged teeth. “What's the matter? I thought you enjoyed making him scream. When I'm through with him and he is me, we'll scream forever.”

“ENOUGH!”

The villain looks up sharply towards the roof. Tony cannot move his head, but he recognises the voice even through the increasing volume of a helicopter. Loki. _His_ Loki.

“Oh look who it is,” the older one coos. “The apprentice returns.” He pushes Tony away as if he is no longer interesting. The vines keep hold and Tony is unable to so much as move a limb as he hits the floor with a thunk that reverberates through his body.

“I don't know who you are or what you want, but you will leave him alone!” Loki shouts. 

At that, the older one cocks his head. “You know exactly who I am and exactly what I want. What game is this? I'm not sure how to play.”

“I'll show you.” Then a shadow falls over Tony and his Loki lands beside him, bringing down his sword as he lands. It cuts right through the older version, who vanishes into a puff of green smoke. 

Loki drops to his knees next to him. Fuck, Tony forgot how beautiful he is. He looks like some beautifully-sculpted statue. Possibly of a boy band member, with those lovable dark locks falling over his face. He waves a deft hand over Tony's suit in some complex gesture and the green glow of the tendrils fades away. Tony is finally able to sit up and he raises his face plate. “Hey gorgeous.”

“Hey.” Loki smiles, but it's a fragile smile. That makes sense though, doesn't it? The older self is his worst nightmare.

“Did he run off?” Tony asks, looking around.

“Not for long. He will be toying with your allies again then he will strike back at us. My arrival surprised him, but he will adapt accordingly.”

“So what's the plan?”

An eyebrow raises. The news helicopter does not seem to be going anywhere, whirring over their heads. “Who said there was a plan?”

“Oh come on,” Tony says, rolling his eyes. “You didn't stay away this long without thinking of _something_. I'm not the only genius around here.” He looked up as the helicopter manoeuvred for a new angle. “Man, could they get any closer?”

“Don't blame them,” Loki says softly. “They are part of the plan, though they do not realise it.”

“Then there is a plan,” Tony replies with a grin.

A put-upon sigh. “Yes. Though I fear it may be a little over-ambitious.”

Tony's grin widens at that and his whole body aches with the desire to kiss that little frown away from Loki's brow. “Oh honey, those are literally the best plans to have.”

Loki's frown vanishes. He leans forward and brings his lips to Tony in exactly the same delicious, soul-scorching kiss that he gave him when they fell into bed together all those months ago. Tony can hear the news helicopter and a part of him is saying this is only going to encourage all those dumb fans, but it's a very quiet part of him so he ignores it. He focuses on the kiss, brings a hand up to Loki's hip and resents the fact that his armour is between them.

When Loki pulls back it takes a moment for Tony to get his breath back. “Was that part of the plan too?” He asks when he's ready to speak again.

Loki cocks his head to the side and seems to think it over. “Well, sort of, I suppose. It has all come so far now that everything feeds into it or detracts from it. And seeing me and you in a tender embrace will certainly give people an idea that I might be on the side of right for real this time.”

“People? What people?” What people could matter in relation to this?

His mysterious lover stands and gestures around the city vaguely. “All of them, of course.”

Tony struggles up to his feet. His suit is still damaged, though at least it's functional now that the older Loki's weird vine spell has been removed. “I don't understand.”

With a smile, Loki gently says, “Come now, Tony. I'm not the only genius around here.” Seeing the confusion no doubt still in place on Tony's face, Loki goes on. “Did you know Midgardians read more on a screen now than they do in books and papers? And even a true story is a story. Sometimes the lines become so blurred that a false story supplants the interesting truth.”

“Very profound. Still not following.” He checks his live data feed. No reported Avengers massacre by the psycho formerly known as Loki. They'll have to go soon though, enact this grand plan.

“Did you know there are thousands of fans of our romantic entanglement?” Loki asks, eyes lighting up.

“Yeah, I did actually. Weird.”

“Weird or not, that means thousands of people who believe we will fight for each other, that I am heroic through simple association with you. Footage of my behaviour prior to this attack has been making the rounds online, to the point that your news reports cannot be certain that the monster out there is any version of me at all. The world saw me save the Avengers and stop the Hulk with no more than an outstretched hand. Hundreds of people have uploaded eyewitness accounts of my kindness, my sincerity and my magic these past six months. Much of it rumour and speculation of course, but ultimately, a _brilliant_ story. So much better than anything my older self crafted. And it snowballs. The nature of the internet is to amplify.”

Tony struggles to make sense of this. “You're... you're taking over the narrative. Metaphorically. But you guys are all metaphor and symbolism and stuff.”

“Exactly. Beyonce Knowles is referred to as a goddess, my fans are just being a little more literal. My older self could never change. He could adapt to survive, but never to thrive. In these dark days, people would rather believe in a hero than a villain.” He meets Tony's eyes, looking a little sheepish. “I know I would. Belief is a very powerful force. Stories and belief feed from each other. Eventually they change the world. A little sorcery to catalyse the reaction and...” Loki flourished a hand like a magician. “Hey presto. A villain becomes a hero.”

“So let's go be heroes,” Tony says, holding out his hand.

Loki takes his hand then steps closer, bringing both arms up around his shoulders instead. Which makes sense, easier manoeuvrability for Tony. “Let's go write a better ending,” Loki says, planting a sweet kiss on his lips before Tony lowers the face plate.

He takes off carefully, wanting to give Loki time to prepare himself and also ideally avoid the helicopter that continues to hover around them. “I'm assuming you know where he is.”

“Let me speak to Jarvis,” Loki says as he puts a hand to the helmet. Tony's interface glitches for a moment, then a green dot appears on his radar.

“Thank you, Loki,” Jarvis says politely through the speakers. “Sir,” he addresses Tony, “I am capable of tracking the enemy now.”

“I see that buddy.” He can ask Loki what the hell just happened later. Right now they have a villain to crush, a destiny to avert, a city to save and a relationship to get back on track. Oh, a day in the life of Earth's mightiest heroes. 

“He will be fighting Thor,” Loki calls over the sound of the wind as they fly.

“Why?”

“Because he is trapped by his own narrative, stuck with his themes and tropes. His story began and ended with Thor every time.”

“Didn't yours begin with Thor?” Tony asks.

“Yes, I suppose. But I'm hoping it ends with you. If you are amenable.”

“Oh babe, I am so _amenable_ you've no idea. Flexible, too.” They close in on the target, though they can't see him yet. A building crumbles not far in the distance. “What do you need me to do?”

“Simply believe in me. If it is not too much trouble.”

“Hasn't been before.”

“Also prevent Thor from murdering me, as long as it does not put you in harm's way.”

That was more like it. The philosophical stuff was getting a little cheesy. They hurtle down the street and see the battle going on in the distance. It's right at the edge of one of their designated evacuation zones. A hundred New Yorkers try and press themselves back against brick walls as the Avengers face down massive suits of armour that seem to move by magic alone. Loki raps on his helmet. “Drop me.”

“What?!”

“Drop me!”

He does. Act of faith, right? He looks down and back even as he does it, shocked that he did. Loki twists in the air and lands graceful as a cat, already twisting his hands to form a ball of green energy. 

“Brother, move!”

Thor glances to the side then dives away as Loki flings the magic ball at his evil self. It explodes outwards with such sudden force that Tony's heart pounds because the civilians are too close and Loki's just fucking murdered an entire--

Before the explosion reaches the huddled masses, it falls back in on itself just as suddenly, like a black hole. The huge suits of armour collapse and disappear, leaving Steve, Hulk, Clint and Natasha looking weary and wary as they stand between the civilians and the battlefield. Tony hopes, somewhat viciously, to see the mangled body of the older evil Loki. If he's totally gone, it will be like he vanished without harm. 

The smoke clears. Old Evil is crouched, but blatantly not dead. Tony fires a repulsor blast at him, for what it's worth. The villain throws up a magic shield.

Tony's blast tears through it like paper, knocking him off his feet.

That's new.

Nearby, the God of Thunder looks between the two versions of his brother. “What is this?”

“A trick, brother!” The older one laughs.

“This is the darkness that was once within my heart,” Loki says, voice carrying as though addressing them all from a podium. “It was sealed away to give me a second chance. It escaped and poisoned the minds of Asgard against me.” He looks over to Thor. “It even poisoned your mind, so usually full of love for your poor, misguided wretch of a brother.”

“So it is you?” Thor asks, eyes darting between the two.

“No more than Mjolnir is you,” Loki says, voice still grand and clear. There is a news crew filming from a nearby alleyway and Tony cannot help but feel Loki wants them to record every single word. “This magic and malice, this... _hatred_ , is no more than a weapon from a former life. I do not need it. I do not want it. And I would die before I let it continue to threaten the people of this world.”

“Heh, big... big words,” the older Loki croaked, voice like the rattle of a dying thing. “Have we not done this dance before, little one?”

“When you had power, yes. I think you will find your magic somewhat depleted. Gods need belief. Everyone knows now that you are no God. Even I know. I was not so sure before.”

“Insolent, little...” The older Loki throws a hand out with a ray of crackling green energy. The crowd gasp but Loki throws his own power back to meet it in the middle and suddenly it's like a damn wizard duel, sparks flying out wildly where the magic meets. It's too dangerous to fire into that with all the unknown variable magic zapping about. All they can do is watch.

Tony looks between the magical firefight and the captive audience, quickly calculating if anyone is potentially within the danger range if this battle goes badly. He thinks they're okay, but who can tell with magic?

He looks at their faces and his arc reactor whirs a little more powerfully in his chest. Every single one of them are watching Loki, _his_ Loki, with nothing but hope. Villains don't get looks like that. Even the Avengers, once their eyes have darted around doing the same assessment as Tony, even they watch Loki with hope. Everyone wants this finished. They want Loki to win.

For the first time in Loki's life, everyone wants him to win. 

Of course, Tony wanted it first. He's happy to tell everyone that, once all this is over.

The fight does not take long. The older Loki's power sputters, his magical ray thinning and falling back bit by bit. The haggard villain snarls and the strain is clear on his face, but Loki is barely breaking a sweat in response.

“How?!” He howls madly, just before he loses his strength and Loki's magic tears through his body. Barton throws his hand over the eyes of a small child. Tony doesn't know why he bothers. Let them watch the monster die. It's less scary than watching him live.

Loki walks over to the wheezing creature. “It's over,” he says calmly, looking down into the mad green eyes of his older self. “This story is about me now.”

A grin spreads across the deathly pale face of their fallen foe. “You know,” he croaks from the ground. “You may be the greatest tale I ever told.”

Then he crumbles into acrid green dust.

Tony lands beside his Loki, who embraces him in full-view of the Avengers, the public and the media. Tony doesn't even care about the consequences. Loki's relief is palpable and that can only mean one thing.

It's finally over.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the encouraging comments, everyone! This is the first story I have written for myself (as in, not a promised gift for a friend or loved one) in, ooh, a year? Maybe more? I've been struggling with my writing all that time, mostly due to mental health reasons. Aside from one small lapse mid-way through this though, I have really enjoyed getting back into the flow!
> 
> Next up is my Frostiron Big Bang (sign-ups are here - http://frostironbang.tumblr.com/post/121545937727/remember-to-sign-up-once-for-every-story-you-plan - if you're interested). I'm very excited, though sworn to secrecy until posting time. I've already started it, so keeping my fingers crossed that you'll all have another story to read from me in a few months. My tumblr is called sarkywoman as well, in case you want to follow me on there.
> 
> Anyway, the final chapter! Hope you all enjoy and it isn't drearily anti-climactic!

_“It was like Harry Potter, you know? A magic duel between good and evil.”_

The dark-haired reporter nods with a serious look as though the young woman is saying something very intellectual.

_“And you believe that Loki is a good guy, in this example?”_

In response, the young woman laughs. _“Weren't you there? Didn't you see it? He saved our lives. He saved the_ Avengers' _lives. You don't do that if you're evil. Everyone knows Loki's been good under the radar for ages. It's all online, it's not some weird conspiracy. He's as much a hero as any of 'em. Asgard just uses him as a scapegoat and that's not right, is it? Like, a foreign nation says someone's evil so we all just agree? This is America, we decide who's evil or not in our country.”_

There is a transition to the reporter outside, talking to the camera. _“This is the current prevalent sentiment among many Americans today. With heroes and villains dealing with doppelganger machines, shapeshifters and magic spells on a day to day basis, how can we, the public, accurately assess personal responsibility among super-powered people? I spoke with super-person expert Doctor Rixton.”_ Another transition to an interview in what looks to be a college office.

Loki sips at his tea and shifts around on the sofa to get comfortable. It is an interesting news special, certainly, though watching it is more research than entertainment. He needs to watch out for others trying to write him back into his former villainous role. 

“Jarvis, are the Avengers still in their meeting?”

“Yes, Loki.”

He thought they would be done by now. They have been in one of the conference rooms for almost an hour. Tony insisted they would not be 'deciding his fate' and that it is just a routine debriefing. Loki is not so naïve as to believe that, especially after the chat he had with Captain America. Perhaps it would have been easier to simply stay in Tony's workshop. He had barely stepped foot out of Tony's bedroom the morning after their battle when he was accosted by the good captain, demanding to know Loki's intentions. Loki's flippant “I am not certain I have any” had not gone down terribly well.

Still, Tony has reassured him that he will always have a place here. 'Always' is a word with the potential to be incredibly tragic, but Loki remains optimistic. He has to. Pessimism was the philosophy of his older self. Pessimism kills the urge to change.

Determined to wait patiently, Loki continues to watch the so-called news special as it debates whether or not he can be trusted. The tone of the show suggests he cannot, but the channel is extremely right-wing to the point that it is considered the territory of conspiracy theorists and fanatics. That they are espousing views against him only strengthens his appeal to the majority of the public. Many rational guests speak highly of him and that is reassuring.

A text comes through from Billy. The Young Avengers want to hang out. Loki drops back a message that reads: **Might be joining the real Avengers now :P** He follows it up with a message that says: **Only joking. Let me know a time that suits you all. It will be nice to catch up**. He means it. After he left their merry team not a day went by when he had not wondered if it had been necessary. A part of him had longed to go back and find some way to make amends, but he had convinced himself it was not possible. He knows differently now. The past can be over-written.

When he hears someone enter the room he expects it to be Tony. He twists around on the sofa to greet him but the words die in his throat when he sees his brother. 

“Hello Loki.”

Thor walks over to the sofa. They have not spoken since Asgard, not even in the aftermath of the battle. One cannot count the brief exchange of information mid-battle. This is the nearest Loki has been to his brother since Thor attempted to intimidate Tony in his workshop and at that point Loki was invisible. Thor does not look as though he has cheered up since then. In fact, his brow furrows deeper at Loki's silence.

“No words for me, Silvertongue?”

“None that would sway you. I am trying not to lie and the truth so displeased you when we last spoke.”

His brother looks away as if he cannot stand the sight of him. “Truth is poor recompense for murder.”

“You do not have to believe this, but I believe there is as much of that child within me as there is of the darker self. Yes, I know the darker magics and I think of myself before others, but I experience guilt for the crimes I commit and I do think of others. The child is as much a part of this person as is the lives that came before. Maybe more so.”

Still looking away from him, Thor sighs. Loki's heart aches at the sound. He hates this, the feud between them. This life is supposed to be the one that sets everything right.

“I wish I could believe this is more than another lie. I want to, but how many times have you fooled me before?”

Loki sighs. “I am still a trickster, brother. But not a malicious one. I hope to use my magic and wits for good now.”

“Good?” Thor scoffs. “Such as gulling the population of this country to believe that which you killed was no more than an unknowable creature? That it was some sort of non-person, some dark entity with no connection to you?”

“More and more I believe it was,” Loki says. After all, it was the echo of a future that will not occur. How can such a thing exist? It was no more than a spectre to frighten him onto a dangerous path. Now it is gone and he will join Tony on a hero's path.

“You took advantage of their fear!” Thor snaps. “They would have welcomed any saviour and you waited for that moment so you might have such an accolade without earning it!”

“All I did was save them!” Loki snaps back, growing angry now. What has Thor done that was so phenomenally heroic that he may judge whether anyone else be worthy? “I'm not asking to wield Mjolnir or return to Asgard! All I want is a chance! I want a chance to be something other than wicked and hated. What lengths must I go to? I am not asking to be considered redeemed by everyone, Thor. I am asking for the chance to earn my redemption. The chance to work hard to wipe the slate clean of crimes that are not fully my own. If I am not to be free of evil then you may as well kill me now.”

His brother stares at him now, blue eyes fixed on Loki's as if he could ever spot a bluff or scheme on Loki's face. “You know I will not,” he mutters.

“Then let me try to change.”

Thor looks to the television screen where a panel of so-called experts are debating what happened between Loki and the Hulk last year. “You bewitched the world. That is a strong spell.”

“It was not 'bewitching the world',” Loki grumbles, rolling his eyes. “It was... changing perceptions. People only thought the worst of me. Now they can see my better side. Think of it as optimising my personal brand.”

Perhaps not an allusion Thor understands, judging from the blank stare. “You are not what they believe.”

And that is the truth of it. Loki has spent a lot of time and effort building a reputation for himself with small kindnesses and a couple of heroic events. He changed the order of things, re-inventing his name before living up to it. “Not yet. But I can be. I will be. Can you believe that, at least?”

“I do not know.” Thor shrugs. “But it does not matter what I believe for the moment.”

Before he can explain himself, Tony walks in. He looks between the two brothers, obviously seeing the tension. He slides his hands in his pockets. “Hey, what's up?”

“Simply informing my brother of the good news,” Thor replies.

“What good news?” Loki asks, perplexed.

“You are to be an Avenger, Loki,” Thor explains. “If you accept the responsibility. There has been much discussion. A lot of it most... philosophical in nature.”

“Yeah, it all got a bit Crime and Punishment in there,” Tony says, wrinkling his nose. “But the result was worth it.” He grins at Loki. “You have the most adorable look on your face right now.”

At that Thor huff and turns away, shaking his head as he leaves the room. He hesitates only to call back, “Do not embarrass the House of Odin, brother.”

Tony still frowns after him once he is gone. “Well that's hardly a congratulations, is it?”

“He called me 'brother',” Loki says with a slight shrug. “And recognised my behaviour as reflecting upon the House of Odin. That is more than I had hoped for.”

His lover settles down on the sofa beside him, humming happily when Loki crawls into his lap. “I was surprised when he abstained from the vote, but I guess you two have a bit of a way to go yet, huh.”

“It used to be fine that Thor did not understand the complexity of the situations I found myself in,” Loki explains, remembering numerous schemes that required more Machiavellian machinations than strategy games against devils spanning across nine realms. “I could call upon him to be the brute force and he would not know well enough to question. But since my rebirth there have been such confusing and intricate plots weaved by me and around me that I feel only a great mind could fathom enough to understand any part of me. Or is that insufferably narcissistic?”

“If it is, we're an even better match than I realised,” Tony teases. “Tell you what, I'll watch you make out with a mirror if you watch me.”

Loki laughs. “I'm serious, Tony.”

“Sorry, was I ruining the moment? Let me get my profound face on.” In a moment he looks serious and ponderous, pursing his lips as if musing the matter at hand.

“Thank you. As I was saying, now that I aspire to goodness I seek a certain comprehension of my plans. I want... I want someone to trust me. Even if I seem to be scheming.”

“Have I done anything to make you think that I might not trust you?” Tony asks, watching him closely.

He goes through their involvement mentally. From the very beginning, Tony has greeted him with an open mind. He has listened. He has acted on the information Loki gave him, rejecting alternative ideas from Thor. He let Loki stay in his home. He believed. He rejected Loki's drunken advances and accepted his sober ones. When Loki left, Tony did not assume the worst of him. When Loki returned, Tony welcomed him home. But Tony is not stupid, for all that he is reckless. He has known the older Loki and the previous Loki. He is not naïve. And yet...

The realisation tightens his throat. “Oh. Is that what it feels like?”

There is something almost sad in Tony's dark eyes. “You've really never known it before?”

“No. Not ever.” Not in his recent youth or even any of the childhoods before.

Tony kisses him sweetly, a gentle meeting of lips and nudging of noses. Then he smooths a hand over Loki's cheek. “You'll get used to it. I figure you've got this being good stuff in the bag now. It'll last. You'll grow accustomed to the lifestyle of an adored and trusted hero.”

“Ha, as you have?” He knows the insecurities that plague his lover, how often Tony looks around at gods and supersoldiers and fears he is an impostor in their team.

“Ah, you got me,” Tony says before nuzzling at Loki's neck. “Make you a deal. I'll believe in you if you believe in me.” A kiss punctuates the pact.

“Deal.” After all, how can he not believe in the mortal man that motivated him to persist, to take a risk, to break the mould? When he thinks on the challenges that await, the difficult battles and the inevitable backlash of opinions, he believes Tony will stand with him.

That will be enough. There is no nearer ending to happily ever after without asking for an unreasonable suspension of disbelief. 

Of course, this is more of a beginning, anyway.


End file.
